


The Last Train

by radiantradish



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: ? - Freeform, Angst, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Tokyo AU, art teacher suga, i don't know what kind of au this is, salaryman daichi, some alcohol, some language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 10:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25469353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radiantradish/pseuds/radiantradish
Summary: There’s this guy that Daichi keeps seeing on the train commute home.Sometimes Daichi imagined they were friends and that this man had noticed him too, when he saw Daichi get on maybe he smiled to himself. ‘Ah here’s Daichi. Hope work wasn’t too awful today.’Daichi smiled ruefully to himself, he could use all the positive wishes he could get even if they were made up thoughts from a man he’d never spoken to.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 47
Kudos: 215





	1. The Last Train

**Author's Note:**

> I think this functions with chapters and not just as a long one shot but who's to say...

Daichi had barely caught the last train. Saved only by the conductor sticking his head out and reopening the doors after they’d closed already. Daichi dipped a short bow to him in gratitude stumbling into the car, his head a fog of exhaustion. The car was nearly empty as he slumped into a seat and reached to finally loosen his tie, his whole body feeling like a sack of bricks. It took him two whole stops before he looked up to find the man was there in the car with him, which was weird because he usually only saw him on the commute home after work. At a regular hour.

Of all the trains that ran the direction they were riding it always baffled Daichi how he could continue to end up on it with the same person. He was probably Daichi’s age, ash blonde hair, a mole under his left eye, always dressed like he knew who he was and where he was headed. Sometimes he had headphones on, or a book open, eyes lost someplace. He was cute, and that was probably why Daichi had started noticing him in the first place. It wasn’t like they were always on the same train. But it seemed to happen at least once a week.

Daichi’s stop was before the man’s, he didn’t know how much further he rode, where he was coming from, where he was going. Sometimes Daichi imagined they were friends and that this man had noticed him too, when he saw Daichi get on maybe he smiled to himself. ‘Ah here’s Daichi. Hope work wasn’t too awful today.’ Daichi smiled ruefully to himself, he could use all the positive wishes he could get even if they were made up thoughts from a man he’d never spoken to. They’d made eye contact once, and Daichi could’ve sworn the man smiled at him.

Tonight the man was halfway up the car from him, across from the only other passenger, a little old lady who looked like she had no business being out this late. Daichi sighed heavily wishing he was home already, showered, dinner eaten, in bed under the comforter, maybe that tomorrow was Sunday so he could sleep in, make coffee leisurely when he got up. Wouldn’t that be the life? Tomorrow was Friday, he’d be back on the train heading the opposite direction six hours from now. The ride to his stop wasn’t long, but it was long enough and Daichi fell asleep.

He woke to a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey this is your stop,” the voice was urgent and he peeled open his heavy eyes to find the face of the man, his hazel eyes wide and serious.

“Oh shit,” Daichi mumbled pushing to his feet, the man had a hold of his arm, pulling him off the train just as the doors hissed shut. On the platform Daichi’s heart jumped.

“My bag!”

“I’ve got it, no worries,” the man said with a soft smile offering it to him. Daichi exhaled in relief and then was startled because here he was, standing on the platform with _the man_.

“This isn’t your stop,” he choked out, and then felt immediate embarrassment for having owned to the fact that he knew that.

“Its fine,” the man was still smiling, “I’m sure it’s not a long walk. I didn’t want you to get stuck on there.”

“Thanks,” Daichi said flushing.

“No problem,” the man answered and giving him a little wave started walking for the exit. Except there was only one exit so then Daichi was following along behind him, feeling deeply awkward. They pushed through the turnstiles and up the stairs into the dark October chill of the Tokyo night. It had started to rain, pelting down ice cold. It hadn’t been raining when he’d been outside before, the cold a shock after the warmth and hum and rattle of the trains underground. It took Daichi’s breath for a moment.

He shuddered beneath the overhang, not eager for the walk from here to his apartment building. The other man has also come to a stop trying to get his bearings. Daichi stood beside him and it was clear that he wasn’t sure which way he was supposed to go, and on top of that it was going to be a soggy walk. Daichi’s heart gripped in remorse for putting him in this situation.

“Where do you live?” Daichi asked him, “I mean, uh, I can point you in the right direction. I didn’t mean like I want to know where you live,” he stumbled over his words, all of it coming out wrong and not cool. He didn't even feel groggy anymore, face heating up in the cold night. The man laughed, eyes crinkling.

“Its fine,” he said and then explained. It turned out he needed to go the same direction as Daichi. He popped open an umbrella from his backpack and offered to share it with Daichi.

“I’m Sugawara Koushi, by the way. Suga if you like,” the man said as they turned off the side street onto a better lit main street. Here there were more cars, taxis, street lights casting everything in watery orange, painting gleaming shapes on the wet sidewalk. Daichi could feel the water seeping in through his dress shoes.

“Sawamura Daichi,” Daichi answered him with a grin.

“I’ve seen you on the train before,” Sugawara admitted looking bashful for a minute. “Isn’t that weird that we’d end up on the same train so often?”

“Of all the trains in Tokyo,” Daichi laughed. Sugawara’s eyes crinkled again. _There’s no way this is real life_. Daichi felt like he was in a dream, and then just as suddenly he was at his fork in the road, turning to head for his apartment.

“I’m this way,” he said, not eager to step out from under the umbrella, pulling the collar of his jacket up.

“Here, take it, I don’t mind getting wet,” Sugawara said offering the handle of the umbrella to Daichi. He hesitated.

“You’ve got further to go.”

“I don’t mind, the rain is nice,” Sugawara assured him, pushing the handle into Daichi’s hand. He stepped back, out from under the shelter.

“Wait.”

Sugawara had his hands in the pockets of his jacket but he took one out to wave. He had long slender fingers, and Daichi noticed then what looked like a big smudge of dried blue paint on Sugawara’s palm.

“See ya later, Sawamura.”

Daichi waved back and Sugawara was gone, the air in Daichi’s lungs suddenly cold again, hand gripping the umbrella that wasn’t his. Kicking himself for all the questions he had not asked. What was the man doing out so late? Why had he felt the need to get Daichi off the train? Why was he so attractive and charming? In what world did Daichi think he had a chance with a guy like that?

“Stupid,” Daichi mumbled to himself, letting his feet take him home. Then he was unlocking his door, dropping his bag, barely managing to shed his clothes before he crawled into his futon and let sleep claim his weary body.

“You’re out late,” Asahi’s head appeared over the back of the couch when Suga ducked into their apartment kicking off his shoes. “And you’re soaked! When did it start raining?” The lights were all off except the light over the sink, Asahi’s face light up with the blue light from his laptop screen, open in his lap. Suga peeled off his soaked jacket, wiping the water from his face. It’d felt good to cool off for all of five minutes, until he’d lost sight of the dark haired stranger from the train. Now his fingers were ice cold and all he could think about was a hot shower.

“Just a little bit ago. I told you I’d be late,” Suga grumbled, “I thought you were my roommate, not my mom.”

“Sorry, Suga, I just started to worry,” Asahi said with a wince.

“Its fine, I’m just tired,” Suga said letting out a heavy sigh. He peeled off more wet clothes, soaked socks, damp t-shirt, wiping his face again and then leaving them in a dripping pile in the entryway.

“Something happen? How was the show?” Asahi asked. Suga shrugged padding toward the kitchen considering putting the kettle on for something hot to drink or if it’d be better to just call it a night. He shivered and then suppressed a yawn. Forget the tea.

“Nothing happened. The show was fine, parents wheedling me to tell them their kids are protégés. Couple of important people there too. You know Oikawa from University?” he said, the other words in his mouth, the name he kept turning over. _Sawamura Daichi_.

“Ugh, that guy,” grumbled Asahi about Oikawa.

“You’re just mad because they beat us in that one game. He’s not totally awful,” Suga said.

“But isn’t he? You complain about him all the time,” Asahi reminded him.

“But I actually _know_ him, I get to complain about him,” Suga laughed coming closer to the couch to seize one of their throw blankets to wrap around his shoulders. His hair was still dripping. Asahi gave him a disapproving look.

“Anyway, Oikawa was there, told me that he’s putting on a show of work from local teachers. Offered me a spot, we went and got drinks after, that’s why I’m so late.”

“That’s great,” Asahi said turning back to look at Suga again eyes wide, “Just what you wanted.”

“Yeah,” Suga said but the enthusiasm wasn’t in his voice.

“You’ll get out of your funk,” Asahi said reading what was on Suga’s face. Suga shrugged.

“Easy for you to say. I haven’t painted anything good in months, not since...” he trailed off, face screwing up in disgust. Asahi sighed. “You don’t have to say it,” Suga told him sighing as well. “Anyway, I’m going to take a hot shower and then I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up too late,” he said running a hand through his wild hair, and then he saw the big smudge of blue on his palm. He felt a flinch of embarrassment with the thought of all the people who had seen it all day and said nothing. Asahi was giving him a funny look.

“Okay, Mom.”

“I deserved that,” Suga said smiling a little.

“Goodnight, Suga,” Asahi with a grin, turning back to his laptop.

Suga dreamt of color fields, a gradient of blues, greens and oranges cutting through like metro lines across the city grid. He felt them in the curve of his spine eating breakfast and in his fingertips during class, helping his high schoolers adjust perspectives and deepen contrast. Over his lunch break instead of walking to the park, he cleared his desk and started marking them down like a map. But as soon as they were down, the humming in his body, like a hardworking refrigerator, stopped. Frustrated he slid the sketches into a drawer, resisting the urge to crumple them up. Instead he wondered if he’d see Sawamura again on the train and just as easily he crumpled that idea up as well.

He didn’t see Sawamura on the train on his way home after school. The volleyball coach had asked him again to come help with practice but all Suga could think was if he stayed then he might miss Sawamura. When the doors opened at the stop where he usually got on and more people packed in to the already crowded train he was disappointed to not see the familiar man with dark hair and soft brown eyes. Heart sinking like a stone, he felt stupid.

“You ever see Metro Guy anymore?” Asahi asked that night by some painful coincidence. Suga shook his head at their table, mouth full of food.

“That’s too bad,” Asahi said, taking off his coat and hanging it up. He toed off his shoes in a neat set by the door. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“How was work?” Suga asked.

“If I see one more PDF today I will die,” Asahi said half smiling.

“That isn’t the voice of a broken man,” Suga said.

“Yeah well,” Asahi laughed a little and Suga was smiling now too. Leaning eagerly across the table, resting his chin in his palms.

“You’re going out with him again tonight?”

“I know Fridays are usually our hang out time, but he’s in town this weekend so…”

“Go, go, I wouldn’t stop you,” Suga said. “Don’t worry about your loser best friend at home in his pajamas. Go out with your hot world traveler boyfriend.” Asahi was red and Suga laid his case to rest, satisfied.

“You’re not allowed to watch any sad movies,” Asahi warned Suga as he slipped his shoes back on fifteen minutes later, hair loose, in fresh clothes that Suga had reassured him four times looked good, and wrapped his scarf around his neck, looking twenty five and successful. Suga was lying on the couch, rumpled shirt and baggy sweatpants, sketch book open but the page empty. He sat up to stick his tongue out at Asahi.

“Try to stop me.”

“I’m serious, Suga,” Asahi said pausing, his hand on the door knob. “Maybe you should try going out with some of those teacher friends of yours. You know, _get back out there_.”

Suga scowled at him and Asahi raised his hands in surrender.

“I’m just saying. You can’t stay locked up at home like a recluse forever.”

“You’re going to be late,” Suga threatened him. Asahi looked at his watch and yelped and was out the door with a hurried ‘this conversation isn’t over.’

Suga exhaled when he was finally gone and sprawled back on the couch.

“I am not a recluse,” he grumbled to himself picking up his pen and staring at the blank sheet of paper. Then growling he leapt up, throwing down the sketch pad. It did seem a waste to stay home, but he wasn’t ready to go out. And honestly he wasn’t sure when he ever would be. Asahi had only recently started pestering him about it.

_“I let you sulk, but Suga, it’s been six months—“_

Even though he was already in what Asahi would kindly call pajamas, Suga shrugged on a hoodie on over the top and stuffed his feet into his shoes. Grabbing his keys he locked the door behind him and descended the four flights of stairs and out onto the street. He sucked in a deep breath of the night air.

“Not a recluse,” he grumbled again. But now he that he was outside, he knew there wasn’t anywhere he really wanted to go. He started walking.

Daichi took the umbrella with him to work tucked in his work bag, and then on his desk. He intended to get it back to Sugawara even though it seemed incredibly unlikely that would be anytime soon.

“Expecting rain Sawamura?” Michimiya Yui poked him in the shoulder at lunch time. He shrugged her off, face hot.

“I borrowed it from someone yesterday, I’m going to give it back after work.” Michimiya smiled at him. She had a round face and soft brown eyes. She reminded Daichi a lot of his sister, which never failed to make him feel like shit. He hadn’t seen her in four years, she wouldn’t answer his phone calls, he only heard about her from his dad, like an alley cat picking up scraps outside a restaurant. She had a husband, was expecting, had a job running the family shop, she and her husband had a house with lilacs in the front yard. Daichi had to push the thought away, the heavy hurt, the loss, it opened in his chest.

Ennoshita from accounting had told him Michimiya had a crush on him but Daichi could not think about her in that way at all, even if he had wanted to.

“Such a gentleman,” she prodded him in the shoulder. “Wanna come to lunch with me and Ennoshita? We’re going to that ramen place down the street. The one you like.”

“Packed a lunch today, sorry,” Daichi said giving her an honestly apologetic smile. He had too much work to get done, going out for lunch only meant he would be here later and for all his appearances, staying later was not an end goal.

“Raincheck then?”

“Yeah, next time for sure.”

She ducked away, face flushed with disappointment and Daichi felt bad again. Rubbing his eyes he turned back to the computer in front of him.

Daichi got off the late train glad only that the work week was over. He hadn’t really expected to see Sugawara again, and in fact he decided he would not be surprised if he never saw the man again. That would be just his luck. It was warmer tonight but not by much, and there were more people out. His stomach growled, and on a whim, he entered the 7/11 down the street from his apartment. He gravitated toward the onigiri, bumping into someone who was crouched down looking at the breads.

“Sorry,” Daichi apologized and the man looked up at him, hazel eyes brightening.

“Sawamura-san!”

“Sugawara,” Daichi felt a flush of heat in his face. Sugawara was in a pair of sweats and he looked so soft. He must think Daichi was lame, still in his suit, tie loose, the perpetually dark smudges beneath his eyes.

“Call me Suga,” Sugawara said smiling at him, then he looked embarrassed. “Don’t judge me, out for a late night snack.”

“No judgment,” Daichi promised.

“Working late again tonight?” Suga asked him, picking up a bread at random.

“Uh, yeah,” Daichi admitted, “Lame I know.”

“Nothing wrong with dedication,” Suga told him.

“I suppose,” Daichi said, looking back to the onigiri. The one he wanted was all gone, he picked another.

“Good choice,” Suga said, they were nearly shoulder to shoulder now. They were almost the same height Daichi thought. “This your dinner? Nice well rounded conbini three course?” Daichi blushed. “Can I help you? I’m a pro at the conbini three course. Hold this a second,” he said handing Daichi his bread and going to get a basket. He came back with not only the basket but a box of hot fried chicken and chips, he grabbed a tea off the shelf and offered the basket for Daichi to put his onigiri in.

“The theme is comfort food,” Suga told him. “I think we need a flan to go with this, you like flan?” Daichi took the basket and let Suga lead him on a short culinary tour. Then they were at the counter, the cashier giving him a strange look as they unloaded it all. Suga added his bread and offered the girl his card.

“What? It’s my dinner,” Daichi reached to stop Suga. Suga waved him off.

“My treat,” he said. Suga laughed when the girl handed Daichi the heavy plastic bag.

“I don’t think I can eat this all at once,” Daichi said when they were outside. He’d taken a bite of a melon pan, Suga had talked him into. It had started to rain lightly. Suga’s expression had sobered outside of the bright fluorescent lit convenience store.

“You need a little more ambition, Sawamura,” Suga said, he opened his own bread and took a bite. “I guess this is goodbye. I’ve got to go back to being a recluse and you need to eat dinner.” Daichi’s heart dropped. “Actually,” Suga paused giving Daichi a small look. “Here,” he said offering Daichi his phone a new message pulled up, “Can I have your number?”

Daichi choked on the melon pan. Suga slapped him on the back.

“You okay?”

“’m good,” Daichi said accepting Suga’s phone, still warm from his touch. He typed in his phone number and handed it back. Suga took it, typed for a second and hit send. Daichi’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

“There, now I have no more regrets about last night,” Suga said with a grin. Daichi was in a daze. Suga pulled up his hood against the drizzle. “See you around, Sawamura,” he said moving to leave.

“Wait!” Daichi choked fumbling with his work bag and pulling out the umbrella he’d been carrying all day. He offered it to Suga. Suga took it with reverential hands.

“Thanks Sawamura.”

“Just Daichi is fine,” Daichi sputtered. Suga’s eyes lit up.

“Ok, Just Daichi,” he said with a grin and a wave, “Later. Enjoy your dinner.”

Daichi walked home in a bubble of happiness. He almost didn’t even feel tired when he kicked off his shoes and spread out his feast on the counter. Then he remembered Suga’s text and pulled out his phone.

It was just an emoji: :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading so far, I've got it all written I've just got to edit the rest.  
> I'm going to post this all within the next week or so probably, stay tuned...


	2. Ex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday parties, childhood friends and feeling like shit

**From: Suga**

How was the conbini 3 course?

Daichi sat on the train and considered this development. He racked his brain for a witty response but all he could think about was the number of stops he was counting down, the transfer, what time it would be when he got there. How would he be? What would he say? Daichi rubbed his eyes. He could wait on an answer to Suga’s text, if he sent something back immediately that’d be too eager right?

Suga had sent the text and then immediately decided what he needed to do was go for a jog because sitting in the empty apartment waiting for an answer to the actual stupidest text he’d ever sent in his whole goddamn life was going to actually kill him. He made it three blocks before he decided it’d be okay if Daichi didn’t text him back. Really, what was he thinking sending him a text like that? What was he thinking getting his number? Daichi probably had a girlfriend or maybe even a wife, god what if he had a family, Suga was a homewrecker, inserting himself into someone else’s life and just because Daichi smiled at him didn’t mean anything?

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

Suga came to a stop, panting, fists clenched, eyes squeezed tight, imagining for a moment if he could travel back in time and not send that text. He should’ve waited at least for Daichi to text first. And then he was thinking about Kenji again and teeth clenched he started jogging again. Asahi was wrong. He didn’t need to get back out here. What was out here anyway? Nothing good.

Asahi came home in the middle of the afternoon, looking not much worse for the wear. Suga had wrapped himself up in a blanket, half eaten sandwich forgotten on the coffee table.

“No,” Asahi said as soon as he could see what movie was on. “Suga, what did I tell you.”

“Shh,” Suga hissed at him, not turning his eyes away from the tv, wishing for a mean moment that Asahi would’ve just stayed gone for the rest of the day. What right did he have coming in here trying to police how Suga spent his time? Now he was ruining the movie. How could he even enjoy it with Asahi sighing heavily, projecting that aura of pity and disapproval? He heard Asahi sigh, and then he walked around the couch to sit down beside Suga. Suga determinedly did not look at him. Maybe he would go away and let Suga have this one thing.

“Suga.”

Suga shut his eyes as Asahi put his hand on his shoulder. He reached to pause the movie and turned to Asahi, irritated. Asahi looked so sad that for a moment Suga set aside his vengeful thoughts to consider maybe he’d read this wrong. Maybe Asahi wasn’t radiating pity and disapproval.

“What’s up?”

“I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine, do I look not fine to you?” the irritation leaked back into Suga’s voice.

“It’s four-thirty on Saturday afternoon, all the shades are pulled, you’re watching your ‘I really need to cry’ movie, you tell me,” Asahi said. Suga exhaled and ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t want to talk about me. How was your date?”

“Suga.”

“You didn’t come home last night so it must’ve been good,” Suga said waggling his eyebrows as Asahi reddened.

“Suga.”

“Come on humor me, tell me stories of the outside world.”

“He just got back from Australia, he had a picture of a spider as big as my hand,” Asahi said with a shudder and Suga let the knot in his chest ease.

Later cooking dinner, feeling more rational Suga decided that it’d be okay if Daichi never texted him back. That was okay, he could just never go to that conbini again, they only ran into each other on the train every once in a while, it’s not like they had to talk and dance around it and pretend Suga hadn’t stepped outside of bounds.

Daichi remembered on Sunday morning lying awake at five am that he’d never responded to Suga’s text. To wait a little bit was one thing, to wait a whole day was rude, his Saturday had been consumed with other things. That weight settled back on his chest and he struggled for a moment to breathe even. She’d had her baby, a girl, the photo of the tiny red infant pressed into the back of Daichi’s eyes. His dad had several pictures. His brother in them also. It hurt and it hurt and it hurt. He rolled over and opened the message in his phone and tried to think of something clever to say, so Suga would think he was cool and not just some loser, living alone five hundred kilometers from anyone who gave a shit about him.

**To Suga:**

Needs some work. Too much dessert

It wasn’t witty and after Daichi hit send he realized it was five thirty and a very weird time to be sending anyone a text. He pulled the comforter over his head and groaned.

Suga was three cups of coffee into Sunday morning before he saw the notification on his phone from Daichi, heart nearly jumping out of his chest and then more apprehensively he opened it hoping it wasn’t a flat out rejection. His lips quirked up at what Daichi had written. Sent at 5:35am. He wasn’t sure what it all meant exactly but he knew what the only answer he could text back was.

**To Daichi:**

No such thing as 2 much dessert

“Wow Sawamura, you’re actually leaving at a regular time tonight?” Michimiya caught up to him on Friday night as the elevator opened. Daichi suddenly felt self-conscious, she was giving him an assessing look. He’d changed into jeans, and what he hoped was a casual but not too casual sweater. “You got a date?”

“Oh, uh, no, no date,” Daichi fumbled holding the elevator door open for her to join him. Her face brightened at his answer and she elbowed him.

“What then?”

“I’m going, uh, to a birthday party,” he said.

“Who for?”

Daichi laughed scratching the back of his head and wishing he’d gone home and changed instead of in the tiny stall of the men’s room in the office.

“I’m not really sure who.”

“How do you not know?”

“I was just invited. Uh, a friend invited me, it’s his friend who has the birthday, I think? I didn’t get all the details.”

Michimiya squinted at him as if trying to decide whether he was telling her the truth or not.

“You’re nervous. Need a plus one?” she finally decided. Daichi’s face got redder.

“No, no, I’m good. It’s fine. I just don’t, uh, go out often.”

“Who do you have to blame for that?” she scolded him giving him a friendly punch in the side. Daichi laughed.

“Sorry.”

“Come out with me an Ennoshita tomorrow night, we’re going to a party across town. Get some going out experience,” she said smiling softly at him. Daichi winced.

“Saturdays don’t work for me,” he told her.

“Excuses,” she accused him.

“Another time,” he promised.

“You always say that.”

“Sorry Michimiya,” he said. The elevator door opened and they exited into the lobby. Daichi longed to run away, sweat had broken out on his neck. This whole thing was a mistake. Michimiya had seen right through him, he was going to go to this birthday party and make a fool of himself. Before he could put any distance between the two of them, Michimiya caught his arm.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to pressure you,” she said softer, “You’ll be fine. Just relax.”

“Ah.”

“I mean it, and if it sucks then you can leave. Some of us are going out to the bars tonight, shoot me a text and you can come meet up with us,” she said with a smile, “I’ll call you and pretend I’m your mom or something and you’ll have an excuse to leave.” Daichi flushed and then gratitude hit him like a wave. He smiled at her.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. Go out there and get ‘em Sawamura, I believe in you,” she slapped him on the back and headed out the door. Daichi watched her go for a moment, confident and self-assured. He hoped Ennoshita had been wrong, because Michimiya would make a great friend. If he could ever get out of his damn head enough to hang out with anyone. He shook it off. That’s what he was doing tonight. He could do this. He checked his phone again for the address that Suga had sent him. This would be fine. Everything would be fine.

_This was a terrible idea._

Suga had changed out of his school clothes, looking at the man in the mirror trying to smooth some of the wildness out of his hair. He poked his cheeks, he looked pale and skinny and scared.

“It’ll be fine,” he tried to tell himself. There was only a 30% chance that Kenji would be there and a 99% chance that Daichi would. God, what if Daichi bailed on him? What if Kenji showed up with a new boyfriend? He had to be dating someone by now, it had been six months. What if he was taller and better looking than Suga? What if he had dimples and a successful career? What if…?

Suga’s phone started ringing from the other room. Flicking off the light Suga ran to answer it. Intensely afraid it would be Daichi saying something had come up, he had to work late, wasn’t going to make it. Suga didn’t think he could go alone. It was Asahi.

“Where are you at? You should be here by now,” he sounded worried.

“I needed to change. The gremlins made me work up a sweat today, I can’t come to this party looking like a failed art project,” Suga chided Asahi, grabbing his jacket and tugging on his shoes, balancing the phone between his ear and shoulder. It slipped out and fell onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he growled picking it up. “I’m leaving right now, I promise.”

“Okay,” Asahi sighed. “I’m going to time you. No excuses about rescuing lost kittens this time.”

“That wasn’t an excuse, it was real! And! It was only once,” Suga said snagging his keys and pushing out the door and locking it behind him.

“Three times,” Asahi corrected him.

“Twice,” Suga argued.

“Are you sure you won’t tell me who this friend is you’re bringing with you?”

“No,” Suga told him, “I’m not sure he’ll be able to get off work, I don’t want to…” he tried to resolve it to himself, “I don’t want to get _your_ hopes up. Y’know, in case he doesn’t show.” Suga bit his lip, pushing through the door and hurrying down the stairs.

“Is it someone from school?”

“Asahi, I’ve got to go, you’re slowing me down. You’ll meet him when you meet him.”

**To Suga:**

Where r u

Daichi found the bar without a problem, in a crowded part of Shinjuku, people streaming by, he could hear music coming from inside, heart drumming. He waited for an answer, he was a little early or maybe a little late, Suga hadn’t give him a clear cut time. He wished he’d dropped off his bag at home, slung over his shoulder he felt like anyone looking at him would know he didn’t belong out here.

“Right here!” a voice called and Daichi turned to see Suga emerge from the crowd waving his phone at Daichi, smiling shyly. Daichi returned the smile, the tension easing a little out of his shoulders.

“You actually made it, it’s only seven and you’re not still at work,” Suga gave him a punch in the shoulder.

“I said I’d be here didn’t I?”

“Yeah but,” Suga’s smile wavered for a minute. “Is this weird? I feel like this is a little weird?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re not a serial killer right? I didn’t treat a murderer to a conbini three course did I?”

“No, I haven’t killed anyone,” Daichi laughed.

“That’s a relief,” Suga said.

“Who’s birthday is it?” Daichi asked as Suga led the way to the door.

“My roommate’s boyfriend, he’ll be the shortest one who talks the loudest. Probably,” Suga said sobering a little.

“Are you going to introduce me as some guy you met on the metro?”

“Maybe. I haven’t decided,” Suga said with a devious grin. “Or we could pretend to be old friends. Only Asahi would know. He’ll disapprove so hard, it’d be hilarious.”

“Who’s Asahi?”

“My roommate, he’ll be the tallest one who is the quietest.”

“Polar opposite to the boyfriend?”

“That’s right. Together they make one medium, well adjusted, average volume person,” Suga turned to Daichi as he opened the door and the noise from the bar hit them. Suga paused. “You look scared.”

“I don’t know any of these people.”

“It’s okay, just stick close to me, together we can make one well adjusted, average volume person as well, I can do all the talking and you just look cute and enjoy some drinks.”

“Why do I feel like this is a trap?” Daichi asked with half a smile.

“Not a trap, I promise,” Suga said, “Come on.”

There were a lot of people, Suga shuddered to see them all. Friends and acquaintances, most people he hadn’t seen in a long time. Maybe Asahi was right, had he become a recluse? He let the whole crowd wash over him like a wave and then taking courage that Daichi was right behind him he waded forward to where he could see Asahi at a table.

Nishinoya was telling a story when they arrived, keeping court at the table, everyone captivated. Asahi didn’t turn when Suga finally made it up behind him, his eyes stuck on Nishinoya, a warm smile on his lips. Suga wanted to run so bad it was a physical impulse. Daichi bumped his elbow.

“Want me to get us drinks?” he asked. Suga could only bob his head and then Daichi disappeared back into the crowd. With him gone it felt much worse, he was swimming in the noise the people, and then he caught sight of the auburn hair, the face with freckles, his heart lurching inside his chest. _This was a mistake_.

Daichi could do this. It was all okay. He was here. Suga had essentially called him cute. They were going to perpetuate some sort of nonsense about being childhood friends. When he got to the bar he realized in horror he hadn’t even asked Suga what he’d wanted to drink. It was okay, he was sure Suga would be fine with anything, he seemed laid back.

Taking the two drinks he walked back to the table. The one he assumed was the birthday boyfriend had ended story time and was deep in discussion with a man beside him. Daichi had to do a double take but it wasn’t Tanaka, his friend from back home, it was a man with a similar sense of fashion, hair in a bleached mohawk, they were laughing. Suga was absent and Daichi felt a flash of panic. Where had he gone? Then he saw a tuff of ash grey hair down at the elbow of the man on the other side of the boyfriend. A man with long dark hair and glasses was bent over talking to him. Daichi edged closer to confirm Suga was crouched on the ground, his face in his hands. When Daichi was close enough the man with the long hair turned a glance at him in confusion, and Suga popped up rubbing his eyes and fixing a smile on his face.

“Thanks Daichi,” he said with a forced cheer as Daichi offered him the drink. “Uh, Asahi this is Daichi, uh,” Suga was tongue tied. Asahi. This was his roommate. Asahi looked at him suspiciously.

“Hi,” he said, “Suga didn’t tell me, do you work at the high school too?”

“No, we go way back,” Daichi tried the words out pretending for a moment he was living someone else’s life and then remembering that Suga said Asahi was the only one who would see through the bullshit. “Right, Suga?” Suga recovered himself in a minute elbowing Daichi with a grateful grin.

“That’s right, we went to, uh, elementary ?... school together, way back in the day, maybe before I even met you.”

“Is that right? What’s your family name? Sorry I don’t remember a Daichi,” Asahi looked torn now between being polite and suspicious. Glancing first from Daichi and then back to Suga.

“Sawamura,” Daichi offered.

“Lived across town, we rode bikes together, caught frogs down by the river,” Suga filled in still smiling. Daichi grinned at that portrait of childhood. He and his brother had done that, his sister too when she was smaller before it made a difference to her whether the frogs were slimy or not.

“Maybe that does sound familiar,” Asahi relented grimacing in embarrassment, “My apologies.”

“It’s all good,” Daichi assured him. “I moved away before third grade.”

“That’d make sense,” Asahi agreed, “That’s when I switched schools.” Daichi nodded feeling bad now for this but Suga was elbowing him again, barely containing his laughter.

“Ah! Suga is this your friend?” the boyfriend had turned away from his conversation with mohawk.

“Yeah Noya, this is Sawamura Daichi, Daichi this is Nishinoya Yu,” Suga said beaming, “Daichi and I went to elementary school together.”

“We played pick-up games of baseball in that big empty lot,” Daichi supplied.

“A man after my own heart,” Nishinoya said saluting his with his beer.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Daichi said. Nishinoya beamed.

“Thanks, man. Any friend of Suga’s is a friend of mine.”

All the introductions were made just like this, Daichi or Suga supplying some made up thing they’d done together as kids. Daichi felt warm and his face hurt from smiling and finally they settled at a table, Suga deep in discussion with a short strawberry blonde guy with an intense expression about a gallery opening. Suga had introduced him but Daichi had already forgotten his name. Daichi’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

**From Michimiya:**

Need help?

He smiled and typed back.

**To Michimiya:**

All good

“Alright spill,” Asahi grabbed Suga’s arm as soon as Daichi went to the bathroom. “Who the fuck is that? And don’t you dare try to tell me he’s some childhood friend.”

“How would you know? He moved away in third grade,” Suga asked but his smile gave him away. Asahi squeezed his arm tighter. “Ow, ow, okay, he’s not from elementary school. That’s _him,_ Asahi. That’s Metro Guy.”

“No, no way, tell me the truth, Suga.”

“He is, no joke. Daichi is Metro Guy. We got off at the same stop the other night and then I ran into him at the conbini, he only lives one stop away.”

“So he’s just some random stranger?”

“He’s not some random stranger. He’s nice and he’s cute and I don’t know,” Suga trailed off, “I just have a good feeling about him.”

“Suga.”

“You told me to get back out there. And here I am. Out here,” Suga said seriously giving Asahi a punch in the ribs. “Out here, living my life, so stop judging me. Daichi’s nice, and I don’t think he’s a serial killer so that’s a bonus.”

“But you’re not like, dating, right?”

“No, I mean,” Suga flushed. “We just met, like last week.”

“Why’d you invite him out here tonight? Is it because of Kenji? Every time I see him, he’s looking over here at you. You and Daichi,” Asahi said. Suga exhaled with a grimace.

“Maybe.”

“Suga that sucks.”

“I know, but I feel better having him here. Everyone is totally buying it too, the frogs and baseball,” Suga felt heat spreading across his face. It almost felt real somehow, like Daichi was the childhood friend he’d lost and rediscovered.

“No one is buying it.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Jealous of what? You’re using some poor guy to get back at your ex?”

“Jealous that I have another childhood friend,” Suga said. Asahi rolled his eyes.

“Come on Suga, is it fair to Daichi? Does he know that’s why you wanted him to come out here tonight?”

“No, how was I supposed to tell him that? I mean,” Suga grimaced again, “That wasn’t entirely why I asked him to come out tonight. You told me to bring someone so I brought someone. He’s the someone I wanted to go with.” Asahi frowned at him and then his eyes narrowed at someone behind Suga. The hair on Suga’s neck stood on end, and he swallowed uneasily, already sure of who was standing behind him.

“Long time no see, Koushi,” the familiar voice said. Suga swallowed again and turned to the auburn haired man behind him.

“Kenji,” was all he could force out, feeling nauseous. There was another man beside Kenji, their arms linked, Suga couldn’t make himself look this stranger in the face.

“How’ve you been? I feel like it’s been ages,” Kenji continued, all geniality, as if nothing had ever happened between them.

“Oh you know, I’m fine. Just out here, uh, living the dream,” Suga said unable to meet his eyes.

“How’s school? That one troublemaker still giving you problems?”

“Its fine,” Suga mumbled.

“Did you hear what Nishinoya’s been up to? Australia? Isn’t that crazy? Taro says he’s got a picture of a spider as big as his head. You always hated spiders, Australia would be a nightmare. Oh, sorry, Koushi this is my boyfriend, Taro,” Kenji said warmly.

“Nice to meet you,” said Taro.

“I…” then Suga was getting to his feet. “I need some air, sorry.” He headed for the bar for another drink, but his feet took him past the crowd, out through the front doors into the bracing cold air, and then he was running. When at last he came to a stop bent over his knees panting, hot tears pricking his eyes, he remembered Daichi and the guilt hit him like a punch to the gut. He turned around but he wasn’t sure where he was at and he was just as sure that he could not go back to the bar even if he’d known the way. Shaking hands he pulled out his phone opening a new message to Daichi.

**To Daichi:**

Sorry sorry sorry sorry

He hit send and then rubbing his eyes he started a second one.

_I’m shitty for running away sorry_

He erased that one and tried again.

_I ran into an ex and couldn’t deal sorry_

He backspaced it out.

_Ate something bad, had 2 go home, sorry I suck_

This one seemed the least fucked so he hit send and sat down on the sidewalk trying to slow his pounding heart. His phone buzzed.

**From Daichi:**

No worries, feel better

Suga pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, dropping the phone onto the pavement.

Daichi walked past the nearest metro station. Everything had been going fine, they’d been having a good time and then he’d come back to find that Suga had gone. All the air had left his lungs, the crowd of people too close, loud, and he’d never felt as alone. The tall guy Asahi had caught him by the sleeve.

“Suga went home,” he said almost too kindly, “He, uh, there’s someone here and he couldn’t stay, he had to leave.”

“Someone?”

“An ex,” Asahi said kinder, putting a hand on Daichi’s shoulder as if that were some kind of comfort.

“Oh,” Daichi’s heart dropped. Was that why Suga had brought him? As a buffer against this ex? “I suppose I’ll go then,” he said.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Asahi offered.

“Nah, I’d better go,” Daichi said.

Now he was weighing the urge to get really properly drunk, Michimiya’s contact was pulled up on the screen of his phone. It’d be easy, they were probably still out, they’d be a sympathetic audience. He was about to hit call when he got Suga’s text, a stream of sorrys with no explanation. Daichi pressed his lips together swiping the message away. Then the second followed, what could only be a lie. Daichi typed back, muscles in his shoulders tight, hit send and then dialed up Michimiya.

“What bar did you say you guys were at again?”

“Suga?” the sound of Asahi’s voice was the last thing Suga wanted to hear. He’d shucked off his clothes, and pulled on his pajamas, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He’d laid down in bed, but his head was still reeling. “Suga?” Asahi opened the door.

“You told me to get back out there, what did you expect?” What had he thought was going to come out of this? Why did he let Asahi talk him into this at all?

“Suga, it’ll be okay,” Asahi sat down beside him putting a hand on his head, fingers sifting through his messy hair. Suga sat up and let Asahi wrap an arm around him. The tears Suga had been choking down leapt up in his eyes and he sucked in a breath trying to keep them in.

“Am I cursed?” he asked, voice cracking.

“You’re not cursed,” Asahi promised him gently rubbing his back. Suga leaned into him, and Asahi rested his chin on Suga’s head. “It’ll be okay, Suga, I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes I can.”

Suga sat up scrubbing at his eyes with his fists.

“How’d Daichi take it?”

“He seemed disappointed,” Asahi said, Suga groaned.

“What’d you tell him?”

“Just that you’d run into your ex.”

Suga groaned again. Now he was a liar as well.

“He’ll understand, Suga, I’m sure of it.”

“What if he doesn’t? What’s to say that even if he does he won’t make me feel the same way in another three months?”

“There’s no way to know Suga, but didn’t you say you had a good feeling about him?”

“But what does that even _mean_?”

“I don’t know, you’re the one who said it,” Asahi said prodding Suga in the ribs.

“Well I’m a stupid bastard then, clearly.”

Daichi woke with a pounding headache, half way out of his sweater, pants off, one sock. The man who greeted him in the mirror, as he downed some aspirin and a huge glass of water, looked like he’d been hit by a train. His phone showed five new messages from Suga, that he decided he couldn’t bother with right now and then one from Michimiya that was a simple picture message, it was a selfie, they were all grinning but Daichi could only see how miserable he looked. The picture only reminded him of the long walk from the station where he'd felt everything unraveling again.

He made breakfast, and caught the train before he remembered the messages from Suga. He steeled himself against whatever they might say and opened them:

**From Suga:**

Sorry again

I fucked up

Asahi told u the truth

I shouldn’t have lied

Let me make it up 2 u

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's Daichi do on Saturdays anyway?


	3. Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date, Dumpsters and a Downpour

Suga cleared his workspace. Daichi had not texted him back and honestly he didn’t blame him. Asahi was sitting at their kitchen table working on his computer, occasionally sending concerned looks to the bedroom where Suga was knocking everything around with a vengeance, making more noise than was strictly necessary.

“Everything okay back there?” he called as Suga dropped the stack of sketchbooks onto the floor unceremoniously.

“What do I even have a desk for, what is the point,” Suga grumbled to himself. Six months of junk accumulating on his desk was more than he had the patience to deal with right now. He was going to not think about Daichi or Kenji or the disaster that was last night. He was going to paint. He’d sent Daichi the texts at six thirty when he’d finally been unable to stay in bed any longer. He’d been up since five, rolling over and over in bed like a crocodile in a death spiral, unable to turn off his thoughts and unable to go back to sleep.

Since then he’d stretched two canvases, drank four cups of coffee, unearthed his paints and brushes from the mess of his room, started a load of laundry, unloaded the dishwasher, woke Asahi when he broke a plate, cleaned up said broken plate, apologized to Asahi, took a shower. And now with the first canvas propped up against the wall on top of his desk he went at it. The hesitation only hit him when the brush touched the canvas and he suddenly did not know why he thought this was going to be easy or simple or somehow cathartic at all. He growled and tossing down the brush he sat back on the bed, hands in his hair to glare at the blank canvas, the single splotch of sky blue off center.

Asahi peeked in.

“Suga maybe you should get out of the apartment. Uh, n…not,” he hesitated as Suga turned the glare on him. “Not like go out, but uh, like get some fresh air. Work some of that coffee off.”

“What do you mean work some of that coffee off?”

“Uh, just, maybe let the idea marinate before you start? I want to be able to get our deposit back when we move out of this place.”

“Why don’t you go hang out with Noya if you can’t stand being here with me?”

“That’s not what I said. You’re in a breaking stuff mood and it’s stressing me out. And I think it’s stressing you out too. Hey, why don’t you call Oikawa up and go play some volleyball?”

Suga huffed at that. And then without any more discussion he was into his athletic shorts, snagging his jacket and keys and out the door.

He didn’t call Oikawa, he went for a jog until he’d reached Daichi’s metro stop and felt everything he’d been running from catch up to him. He exhaled them all out and turned to head back home. On the way he thought he saw Daichi from across the street, heading for the station, head bowed, shoulders hunched in a way that cut Suga straight to the heart. He came to a stop and watched Daichi go, disappear into the shuffling crowd of people.

When he finally got back to the apartment, Asahi had gone and Suga felt bad again for telling him to leave. The canvas was where he’d left it, the splotch of blue now the sad huddled shape of Daichi on his way. Still sweaty and feeling all of it buzzing now in his hands Suga reached for his palette. Putting in the crowds, the cut of the street that divided them, a small blue splotch far away watching him go.

His phone showed he had no new messages and shedding his sweaty clothes he crawled under the blanket on his bed and fell asleep.

Daichi was on the way home, the sky almost dark before he texted Suga back. He’d tried to put it out of his mind. Imagining that this was the end of their relationship, it wasn’t like he had to worry about seeing him at work or in the apartment building, but the idea of never talking to Suga again felt more like a self-inflicted injury than a win. The other thing was, he wasn’t sure that he would’ve done anything different if their places had been reversed.

**To Suga:**

Ok

The buzz from his phone startled Suga awake, immediately disoriented, his room dark as night, but a swath of light cutting in from the hallway light. Groggily he glared at the clock flashing 6:54pm at him. He turned on the bedside light, lost his balance and tumbled out of bed with a muffled curse. Looking around he couldn’t find his phone. The painting leering at him from where he’d left it against the wall, seeing it reminded him of how he’d felt earlier and he groaned softly to himself. He’d really fucked up this time. His messages to Daichi ignored. Except the buzz of his phone and then he was rifling through the blankets, it slipped out and landed on his foot.

“Fuck,” he picked it up and opened the lock screen. The two letters from Daichi gazed up at him. Ok was not forgiveness, Suga thought, but hope tickled in his heart, ok was not forgiveness but it wasn’t exactly a grudge either.

His stomach growled and he considered how he was going to make it up to Daichi. He pulled a fresh t-shirt on and started dinner. Asahi was still gone. Suga started three separate texts while his food was cooking and then erased each one letter by letter.

“What was I thinking? How am I supposed to make it up to him?” he grumbled into his soup, crouched at the table, still staring at the open dialog box, the blinking cursor.

He started typing again:

**To Daichi:**

Want to just punch me in the stomach as hard as u can

He hit send and then put his forehead down on the table.

**From Daichi:**

Something else

Suga looked up.

**To Daichi:**

I can’t make u dinner, am a bad cook, suggestions?

**From Daichi:**

Can’t ask me for suggestions

**To Daichi:**

I’ll clean ur bathroom

**From Daichi:**

No

**To Daichi:**

Whole apartment?

**From Daichi:**

Tempting

Suga groaned.

**To Daichi:**

Take u out 2 dinner

**From Daichi:**

Is dinner 3 course conbini

**To Daichi:**

Not unless u want it 2 b

**From Daichi:**

Let me think

**To Daichi:**

Don’t hurt urself

**From Daichi:**

Dumbass

**To Daichi:**

:)

Suga smiled to himself rinsing his dishes in the sink.

“You seem cheery this morning,” Michimiya leaned into Daichi’s cubicle, she was beaming and Daichi wondered if it was that obvious. Suga had offered to take him out to dinner and just thinking about that warmed his chest. He couldn’t help from smiling, as he did now at Michimiya. “You survived Friday night then I guess?”

“Remind me never to go out drinking with you guys again. I’m not that eager to die an early death,” Daichi answered her.

“Boo, Sawamura, you’re no fun,” she said laughing at him. “You should come out with us again. Sawamura with a couple of drinks in him is hilarious. You’re the best drunk.”

“I’m insulted,” Daichi told her turning his chair back to his computer.

“Lunch today?”

“I…”

“The lunch you packed will keep,” she told him, “Didn’t you promise me last time I asked you’d say yes?”

“I am a man of my word,” Daichi said relenting. Michimiya smiled wider.

Lunch turned out to be a two party affair. Daichi had expected Ennoshita and maybe Moniya or Watari but it was just him and Michimiya. They went to the ramen place across the street that he had only ever frequented after dark on the way home if it was still open. It seemed different in the daylight, Michimiya smiling sweetly at him. It wasn’t that she was bad company, Daichi had a good time but walking back to the office he couldn’t help but wonder about what Ennoshita had told him, wonder if he was making a mistake here. Michimiya betrayed nothing and for now the issue rested.

**From Suga:**

Saturday work for u?

**To Suga:**

Can’t on Saturday

**From Suga:**

Lame

**From Suga:**

Friday night? Skip out early on work?

**To Suga:**

U at work right now?

**From Suga:**

;) y u ask?

**To Suga:**

Shouldn’t u be working

**From Suga:**

Gremlins at lunch and so am i

**To Suga:**

Gremlins?

**From Suga:**

Will explain later

Daichi was the first person to leave the office on Friday afternoon. He wasn’t sure it was allowed but didn’t ask. Back in his apartment he didn’t know what to wear, staring at the contents of his closet, thinking what he would wear on this date. It was a date, he was almost positive. He’d almost asked Suga twice, but was too scared that the answer would be to laugh off the idea. But on the other side if he was misreading the signs. Were there signs? Daichi didn’t know what the hell he was doing.

**To Suga:**

Is this a date?

As soon as he sent it he dug his knuckles into his forehead. Why had he done that? _Stupid. Stupid._

There was no immediate answer. Daichi settled on jeans, maybe a nice t-shirt? A button up over top? God what if Suga texted him back and said no homo, Daichi I’ve got a girlfriend.

**From Suga:**

Depends…

**To Suga:**

On what?

**From Suga:**

You ;)

**To Suga:**

?

**From Suga:**

Daichi u want 2 go out tonight on a date

Daichi sank back onto his desk chair with a burst of laughter, his face warm, smiling so hard it was almost painful.

**To Suga:**

Hell yeah

Suga’s hands were shaking, he’d dropped his school bag on the floor by the door, hadn’t even kicked his shoes off yet, leaning against the wall, smiling to himself.

“Suga?” Asahi’s voice startled him.

“Yeah?”

“You’re home early?”

“I’ve got a date.”

“You’ve got a date??”

“Ask me with who,” Suga said, shoes off, getting a running start and sliding across the smooth wood floor on his socks, beaming across the kitchen at Asahi who was by the sink cutting vegetables. Asahi smiled to see him.

“I think I know who.”

“Ask me.”

“Who?”

“Daichi!”

“Did he ask you out?”

“No I asked him,” Suga said.

“Bold.”

“I’m a man of action. A recluse no more.”

“I’m glad.”

They planned to meet at the conbini. The place Suga wanted to take Daichi out to dinner was in the neighborhood, but the conbini was a halfway point between their apartments. Suga leaned up against the wall watching the people streaming by him. On their way home from work, the street busy with cars, taxis, a bus. His heart was beating too hard, it seemed foolish but he was nervous, even though Daichi had as much as told him that he was into him. He didn’t see Daichi until he’d sidled up beside him, leaning up against the wall.

“Who are we waiting for?”

Suga jumped a little and then giggled.

“This guy I met on the subway. I don’t know if he’ll be able to get out of work though.”

“Sounds lame,” Daichi said with a grin.

“I dunno, he reminds me a lot of you,” Suga answered, for a moment absorbing Daichi with his eyes, dark jeans, black tee, a plaid shirt over top, peeking out from under his open coat.

“So where are we going?”

“I know a place,” Suga said with a grin, leading the way. Daichi kept pace beside him, their elbows bumping. Suga wanted to reach for his hand but wondered if that was too forward. What did Daichi’s hand feel like? Was it warm or cold and clammy? He was pretty sure his were clammy right now, though his nerves had eased a little now that Daichi was beside him. He couldn’t really explain it but he felt like he’d known Daichi forever, like all the childhood escapades they’d made up to the people at Nishinoya’s party had been real.

“So the gremlins?” Daichi ventured as they forked off of the main street, into a less congested lane. Suga grinned.

“I’m a high school art teacher.”

“That explains the paint.”

“Where?” Suga pulling his hands out of his pockets looking them over, when he had determined they were clean a second thought hit him. “Is it on my face?” Daichi was choking on laughter.

“No, you’re fine,” he said and Suga hit him with a scowl, “That first night, when you pulled me off the train? You had a big blue streak on your hand.”

“The first rule is you gotta tell me if I’ve got paint on me.”

“There’s rules now?”

“Yeah, if we’re gonna date, you gotta tell me if I’ve got paint on me. Don’t just see it and say nothing.”

“Okay, seems easy enough. You seem pretty sure about that second date.”

“I know I’m a catch.”

“You sure you aren’t going to just abandon me again, tonight?” Daichi was still grinning, but Suga’s face fell immediately.

“Daichi, I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s fine.”

“No it’s not. It was shitty of me to do. I didn’t even think, I just ran. It won’t happen again.”

“What if he shows up tonight?”

“I’m gonna spit in his face, and then ask you to marry me right in front of him,” Suga said.

“Petty.”

“In a good way, or a bad way?”

“Not sure yet.”

“Let me know when you decide. So do you say yes or no?” Suga asked.

“To what?”

“When I ask you to marry me?”

“Not sure yet about that either,” Daichi said.

“Hmm. Maybe I’m not so sure about that second date then.”

“I’ve got to agree to marry you in order to get a second date?”

“Maybe,” Suga smiled. “Here it is. Do you like spicy food? They’ve got the best spicy mapo tofu.”

It was a little hole in the wall restaurant. And as soon as they entered, it was clear to Daichi that Suga was regular here.

“No take out tonight,” he was laughing with the waitress. The restaurant was larger on the inside than Daichi could’ve guessed. The waitress put them at a table in a quieter part of the space. The food was good. Daichi didn’t get the spicy mapo tofu despite Suga’s badgering, but tried some of Suga’s. He gulped down water afterwards, as Suga laughed.

“What is wrong with you?” Daichi demanded of him when the burning in his throat lessened enough.

“It’s not that spicy is it?”

“Do you even have any taste buds left? Can you taste anything at all?”

“Daichi, it’s not that spicy,” Suga said, chin resting in the palms of his hands, smiling sweetly.

“Satan get behind me,” Daichi laughed at him.

Suga’s face froze, Daichi turned to see what he was looking at. The tall man with auburn hair, leaning at the bar, laughing with the bartender. Daichi thought he looked familiar, that maybe he’d seen him at Nishinoya’s birthday. He turned back to Suga, who was determinedly looking down, biting his lip, fists clenched on the table.

“Suga?” he asked. Suga didn’t lift his head. “That’s him, isn’t it?” Suga bobbed his head weakly. Daichi felt the wild head rush of jealousy, the spiteful crush in his stomach that made him wish he could erase this ex from existence. Maybe then Suga would have eyes only for him. “You going to ask me to marry you or what?” Suga finally looked up in surprise, eyes meeting Daichi’s.

“What?” he asked.

“He’s here, ask me to marry you. He’s gotta know that you’re here, this is _your_ restaurant.”

Suga was blushing and hell he was cute. Daichi couldn’t stop from reaching across the table to settle his hands over Suga’s.

“Daichi, I’m sorry,” Suga apologized again.

“Want me to propose to you instead? I’ll knock my chair over to get his attention.”

“You wouldn’t,” Suga said voice quiet.

“I would. You want me to?”

“No you wouldn’t,” Suga’s eyes were pinned on Daichi’s mouth twitching up. Daichi was encouraged by his smile. He let go of Suga’s hands, moving to push his chair back.

“Daichi, Daichi, don’t do it, I take it back,” Suga said but it was too late. Daichi stood up, knocking over the chair. The noise it made, startled him, and he hesitated wondering what the fuck he thought he was doing. Suga’s eyes were shining at him though. That was enough, grinning he got down on one knee and offered Suga his hand.

“Koushi,” he said.

“Jesus, Daichi,” Suga said breathlessly letting Daichi take his hand.

“Is he looking?” Daichi whispered.

“I don’t want to look. Yes, he is.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Daichi, what the fuck.”

“I need an answer.”

“What are you going to do if I say no?”

“I’m going to pretend like you said yes and kiss your hand.”

“This is humiliating.”

“It was your idea.”

“What if I say yes?”

“Maybe I’ll actually kiss you.”

“Here in the restaurant?”

“Maybe? I haven’t decided.”

Suga didn’t answer, his eyes still locked with Daichi’s but Daichi couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“Koushi please, my old man knees are hurting.”

Suga pressed his free hand to his face. He was beet red, and Daichi couldn’t stop smiling at how cute it was.

“Okay, yes.”

“I don’t know if that was convincing answer,” Daichi said. Suga groaned and Daichi pulled his knuckles to his lips and then let go of his hand. Slowly, deliberately, and with actually aching knees he got to his feet and righted the chair.

“I can never come back here,” Suga groaned, face still covered by his hands. “Is he still here?”

“Yeah, he doesn’t look so smug anymore though.”

“That’s good,” Suga said but didn’t uncover his face.

“You alright? Was that satisfying?”

“I don’t know, I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Suga said then.

“For real?”

“I just need some air,” he said finally uncovering his face, his eyes looked red, he scrubbed his cheeks with the palms of his hands. “I’m gonna go out the back door. I’m not running away, I promise,” he said, voice wobbly. Daichi watched him go, heart falling and then sure that’d fucked things up. He caught the waitress’ eye to ask for the check.

Outside it had started to rain again.

Suga was crouched by the dumpster under the overhang of the eaves, the rain coming down hard turning the street reflective and gleaming. Daichi sat down next to him on the pavement.

“You okay?” he asked. Suga’s lips were pressed together in a grim line and he just shook his head in response.

“Did I mess that up? I’m bad at this,” Daichi admitted. Suga gave him a weak smile.

“Not you. It’s me. I’m the fucked up one.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Daichi said into the sound of the pouring rain, looking out at it rushing down the street into the gutters. He thought about his dad lying in the hospital bed and all the tubes, his chest tight, the feeling of his dad’s calloused hand in his own.

“I’m sorry,” Suga said then in a soft voice, he lowered himself down to the concrete beside Daichi from a crouch to a sit. He bumped Daichi’s elbow with his own. “Your proposal was great. I just keep thinking it’ll get easier but it doesn’t, not really.”

“Its fine, I get it,” Daichi said. Suga let out a heavy sigh. “You want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know if that would make me feel any better,” Suga said, “Besides, that’s not fair to you, we’ve just met. I don’t want to dump all this…” he waved his hand, cringing, “…all this shit on you.”

“I don’t mind.”

“It’s just that…” Suga started his face reddening a little. “I uh, I like you Daichi. And it’s not like I’m still in love with Kenji because I’m not. I just… I didn’t take it well when we broke up. I haven’t really gone out other than to go to work for a long time,” he said biting his lip, “Even if I don’t have those feelings for him anymore, seeing him again hurts, and he can act like everything is fine and nothing ever happened but I can’t. If I’d gone out more, maybe by now I’d be used to it. Like enough exposure will make me immune to any kind of reaction. But I’m not there yet. And it’s not fair because I like you. And you deserve to have someone who isn’t fucked up.”

Suga buried his face in his hands. “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he mumbled. Daichi sighed. It was about as much as Asahi had hinted at.

“Do you hate me yet?” Suga asked quietly, he turned to look at Daichi, eyes big and sad. Daichi scooted a little closer until their knees were touching.

“I couldn’t hate you,” he said.

“Sure you could,” Suga said looking back out at the rain.

“Don’t be a dumbass,” Daichi said elbowing him. “There’s no way I could hate you.” Suga looked back, the edges of his lips twisting, Daichi elbowed him again grinning at him. Suga finally broke a smile looking down at his hands.

“I know this is only a first date,” Daichi said, “with only a small chance of a second date?” Suga’s grin grew. “Can I kiss you?” Suga’s eyes crinkled, the way they had when they’d been walking home from the station. Daichi’s heart leapt.

“Out here between these dumpsters, really Daichi?” Suga asked grinning.

“Hold onto this memory,” Daichi said and leaned forward. Suga met him halfway, hands cupping his face. It was soft and gentle. Daichi felt in a daze when they separated. Suga’s eyes were bright.

“I’ve got to go,” he said quietly then, “I promised I’d help coach at practice tomorrow. It’s early. Fucking high school sports clubs.” Daichi laughed.

“I remember those days.”

Suga stood up and offered his hand to pull Daichi to his feet.

“What did you play?”

“Volleyball.”

“No way, you’re joking right?” Suga gaped.

“Wing spiker, my team was top four in the prefecture.”

“I played volleyball!” Suga said, “Setter. Though my team never even made it to the qualifiers,” he laughed. “That’s crazy. Hey you should come with me to practice tomorrow, show those kids how it’s done, since you’re a big shot.” Daichi laughed.

“I haven’t played in years.”

“That’s no problem,” Suga said, “They’ll appreciate it either way.”

“Not if I make a fool of myself,” Daichi said scratching the back of his head, “Besides I can’t tomorrow. I’ve got something I have to do.”

“No fun,” Suga said, “Maybe next time? I’m going to play volleyball with you, it’s going to happen. I’ll set you some perfect spikes.”

“I’d like that,” Daichi said grinning back at him.

The rain was relentless, heavy and cold and neither had brought umbrellas, bumping elbows as they ran. Daichi was laughing. Suga heart bubbled with the sound and then he was laughing too. Daichi took his hand leading him down a side street, they cut through an alley and then Daichi led them to what had to be an apartment building.

“Come in for a bit, wait for the rain to stop,” he said pausing as he opened the door. His face was flushed, eyes shining. Fear prickled for a moment in Suga’s chest that suddenly things were moving faster than he’d thought, head spinning. He could picture Kenji again lying in his bed with a lazy smile, and his stomach lurched.

“I should get home,” Suga said sliding his hand out of Daichi’s. Daichi’s face fell for a moment. There was a crack of thunder and lightning ripped open the sky over head.

“Just a bit, I’ll make tea or there’s beer. No funny business I promise,” Daichi tried again, softer. Suga knew if he’d said no again Daichi would’ve let him go back out into the storm, but he was shivering now and the prospect of the ten blocks in the downpour sounded not good at all.

“Okay, just for a bit,” he agreed.

Daichi led the way up the stairs to the third floor, down the hall, unlocking another door, flicking on the light he let Suga go in first.

“I feel like I should ask again if you’re a serial killer before we go any further,” Suga said giving Daichi a grin. He looked embarrassed.

“I can’t even kill spiders, so I’m going to vote no.”

“You can’t kill spiders? What does that mean?”

“Live and let live,” Daichi said.

“You’re sick,” Suga laughed kicking off his shoes, “So your apartment is full of spiders is what you’re telling me.”

“Guess you’ll have to find out,” Daichi teased shutting the door behind them. Suga, unable to stop himself, wandered forward into the dimly lit apartment, hitting the first light switch he saw. The walls were bare, plain. Everything neat and tidy, everything minimal, bland. Like Daichi had just moved in. _Like he was never home_.

“There’s nothing on your walls,” Suga said.

“It’s not much, I know,” Daichi answered moving to turn on the electric kettle.

“It doesn’t feel like you at all,” Suga said, measuring the walls with his eyes, imagining a painting that would fit here, something in orange and gold and deep ocean blue, something warm and calm like Daichi.

“Thanks, I think?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, or wait, maybe I did?” Suga pulled off his sweatshirt laying it out on the counter.

“There’s a bathroom around the corner if you want to dry off,” Daichi offered pointing to the still dark extremities of his apartment. “I could give you dry clothes too if you want.”

“It’s all good, I’m alright,” Suga said moving toward the bathroom. He toweled off his wet hair with one of the big bath towels. Here it looked like someone lived here, he grinned to himself at the razor sitting on the counter, imagining Daichi shaving in the morning, the half empty tube of toothpaste. He poked his head out, Daichi had come out of the kitchen, turning on the light in his room, futon folded up against the wall, desk a mess of papers and books, a hoodie hanging over the back of the chair, a lone sock on the floor.

“Okay, I believe you live here now,” Suga said.

“Shut up, pass me a towel would you?”

Suga tossed him a towel. Daichi wiped off his face and ran it through his hair.

“Sure you don’t want a dry shirt?”

Suga tried to suppress the shiver that ran through him.

“Maybe,” he said. Daichi let him into his bedroom, Suga drifting toward the desk.

“You’re a writer?” he asked finally spying the answer to his questions. A publishing guide.

“Oh, uh,” Daichi looked red again, he had a t-shirt in his hands. “I mean.”

“That’s cool. Why do you look embarrassed? Own it Daichi!” Suga said grinning widely. Daichi offered him the shirt.

“I’d like to be,” he finally said.

“Do you write stuff?”

“When I can find the time.”

“Then you’re a writer,” Suga said taking the shirt.

Later tucked inside Daichi’s long sleeve shirt that was a size too big, Suga and Daichi nursed mugs of tea on the couch. Outside the thunder continued, the sound of rain against the windows. Suga was in the middle of a long story about art school and the volleyball team he and Asahi had played on. Daichi’s head was resting on the back of the couch, he was smiling softly, eyes heavy, until Suga trailed off, the mug in Daichi’s hands tipping. Setting his own aside, he took the tea from Daichi and set it on the small table beside the couch. He leaned back considering the sleeping man beside him, heart full and heavy all at once. Then Suga was aware the rain had stopped, and he could hear the gentle ticking of a clock. Straightening up he could see the time display on the oven, it was past midnight.

“Daichi?” he said softly, not wanting to wake him, but it didn’t seem a better idea to just leave.

“Hmm,” Daichi’s eyelids fluttered, lifting his head. “What time is it?” he murmured.

“Late,” Suga said. “The last train is gone by now.”

“Shit,” Daichi said rubbing his eyes, “Sorry I fell asleep.”

“I’m gonna go home, you should go to bed.”

“Okay, suppose that’s reasonable. You sure you don’t wanna stay?” and then Daichi seemed to realize what he was saying. “No, maybe it makes more sense to leave. It’s just late.”

“That’s okay, I appreciate it,” Suga said with a shy smile, getting up and stretching stiffly. Daichi didn’t move, laying his head back down, looking at Suga with tired eyes.

“You wanna hang out tomorrow?” Suga asked.

“I can’t,” Daichi said.

“That’s right, I forgot,” Suga said face heating up. He walked around to where his wet t-shirt was in a pile on the counter. Reluctantly he considered it.

“If you want, wear it home,” Daichi said, “Give it back later.”

“Okay maybe,” Suga said with a smile, “Keep mine as a hostage.”

“Will do.”

Suga shrugged on his damp sweatshirt over the top, feeling certain it would be too cold to go without it. He pulled on his wet shoes.

“Sure you don’t want to stay?”

“Get behind me Satan,” Suga grinned toothily at Daichi. “Later, Daichi.”

“Bye Koushi,” Daichi said softly as he opened the door. Suga turned back to him, his heart jumping.

“You’re on thin ice, Daichi.”

Daichi grinned a shit eating smile back at him.

“Bye Dai-chan,” Suga sung at him opening the door and waltzing out, sticking his head back in before he closed it. “Text me.”

Daichi waved sleepily at him.

The walk home was cold and reality settled heavy and thick on Suga’s shoulders, the warm smile on his face fading, pushing his hands deeper in the pocket of the hoodie.

When he got home, all the lights were out, and he wasn’t sure if that meant Asahi was asleep or out for the night. Either way he didn’t turn on the lights fumbling through the dark and into his room, the ambient city light from outside the window casting his room in shades of blue. Shedding the sweatshirt onto the floor, kicking off the wet jeans, the soaked socks and finally Suga lay back in bed, in Daichi’s shirt and wished he felt like anything felt easier at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks everyone who's following this for all the love, I really appreciate it


	4. Arcade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daichi's secret talent

Suga was leaning forward, chin resting on the heels of his hands, elbows propped up on the checkout counter, perched on the stool.

“You know you could help me Kou-chan.”

“Why would I want to help you Tooru-chan?” Suga answered, and Oikawa turned from where he was slowly shuffling the lineup of paintings, stepping back every so often to judge the placement. “I’d just get in your way, anyway,” Suga added. Oikawa gave a huff of laughter. “And if you wanted the brawn to move those around you should’ve had Hajime help you.”

“Iwa-chan has better things to do then watch me move paintings around all afternoon.”

“And I don’t?”

“Of course not, if I hadn’t called you, you’d be in your apartment right now, under a blanket watching some sad movie.”

“I would not.”

“You definitely would.”

“For you _information_ , I already helped the coach with volleyball practice this morning, so if I was at home under a blanket enjoying a nice movie it’d be because I _deserved_ it.”

“Sure thing, keep telling yourself that,” Oikawa jeered. “How does this look?” he asked taking six steps back until he was nearly in line with where Suga was perched.

“I liked it the other way you had it better, this way the little ones all blend together.”

“You said they looked _dwarfed_ before.”

“Yeah, well, that was better.”

“I don’t agree with you.”

“Don’t you though?” Suga grinned at Oikawa who definitely didn’t look satisfied with the current lineup.

“I don’t like either of them,” he decided finally.

“Me neither,” Suga said.

“You little twerp.”

Suga picked up Oikawa’s ledger to hit him on the shoulder with.

“I’m a normal sized human being, you big oaf,”

“ _I’m a normal sized human being_ ,” Oikawa repeated him in a singsong voice, grinning at Suga. Suga threw the ledger at him. It fluttered through the air and landed in a heap on the floor. Oikawa laughed.

“Nice toss there, now I know why we always wiped the floor with your team.”

“Shut up,” Suga laughed at him. “Can’t we give this a rest for a while? I’m hungry, make me lunch.”

“You’re so demanding,” Oikawa jeered. “I don’t have any food in the fridge here, we’ll have to order in.”

Suga had to agree, there was no way they were going out, the rain pouring down outside the gallery.

“Okay, now give me all the details, Yaku said you have a boyfriend?” Oikawa said when the food had arrived, and they were sitting together on the floor in front of the cash counter.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Suga answered him.

“Then who is Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome.”

“I don’t know, that’s very nondescript. It could be anyone,” Suga couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto his face though. Oikawa grinned back.

“Kou-chan has it bad.”

“His name’s Daichi.”

“Ooh, strong and sexy.”

“We’ve only been out once, or maybe twice if you count Noya’s birthday.”

“I still can’t believe you didn’t invite me to that.”

“You would’ve hated it. No one would’ve paid any attention to you at all,” Suga said. Oikawa hit him on the shoulder.

“Yaku said Kenji was there,” Oikawa said softer. Suga shrugged looking back to his soba noodles, shoveling in a mouthful.

“It’ll get better,” Oikawa said, “I shouldn’t’ve brought it up, tell me more about sexy Daichi, where’d you meet, what’s he do? Is he a teacher?”

“He says he’s a pencil pusher. I’m pretty sure he hates it,” Suga said weighing the words. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Daichi, somehow putting it into words made it feel like it would dissolve under scrutiny. When Asahi asked him questions he’d shrugged them off, was always suddenly too busy to talk right then.

“Ohh, that’s sad,” said Oikawa. “What’s his ambition? What would he rather be instead? He’s cute isn’t he? Yaku wouldn’t give me any details. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this all such a secret.”

“I don’t really know what he wants,” Suga said smiling a little to himself thinking of the writing sprawled across Daichi’s desk, the stacks of books. He was going to keep that part for himself though. Oikawa didn’t need to know that. “He’s always busy on Saturdays too, which is weird. He works really late all the time.”

“You sure he’s a pencil pusher, and not just married or something?”

“Nope definitely a bachelor. I saw his apartment.”

“You saw his apartment,” Oikawa lifted his brows suggestively. Suga laughed, reddening.

“I wish,” he mumbled.

“Kouchan has it bad,” Oikawa jeered again.

The train seemed slower today, cutting through the rain and mist like a dull butter knife. Daichi leaned his forehead against the window, this was the part where usually the dread started filling his stomach like an acid swamp, and it seemed wrong that it wasn’t now, he was thinking of Suga, smiling at him on the couch, long sleeves of Daichi’s shirt over his knuckles, wet hair curling at the ends, eyes sparkling. The feeling of his soft lips, the orange light spilling over the dumpsters, the sound of rain crackling on the plastic lids.

**To Suga:**

Wish I was with u

Daichi considered the words he’d typed out. Maybe that was too much. Maybe it was too soon. He started to erase it and then changed his mind. Suga wouldn’t be scared, not like Daichi felt now at the edge of this pool, hesitation gripping him, afraid to surrender to the water. He forced himself to hit send and tucked the phone back into the pocket of his jacket. The next stop was his. The recording was playing over the intercom, the chime signaling their approach, the train slowing. The dread pooled in Daichi’s knees as he staggered to his feet, steadying himself against the seat in front of him as they entered the station.

Suga held his phone so tightly his knuckles were turning white. _Wish I was with you_.

“Koushi I need your help, what are you doing?” Oikawa called from the second room of the gallery and when there was no answer he appeared at the doorway. “Koushi? What are you doing? Huh, don’t ignore me.”

“Sorry,” Suga set the phone back down on the cash counter, his hands shaking.

“Got a message from bae?” Oikawa asked reaching to ruffle Suga’s hair. Suga chopped Oikawa in the ribs with his arm.

“Shut up.”

“Something bad? He breaking up with you already?” then his face softened when he saw Suga’s expression. “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Suga mumbled, “What are we moving around now?”

It wasn’t raining here, but it was still heavy grey, somehow worse without the rain. Daichi’s hands were freezing, feet slowing outside the hospital, they were running tests today, the hesitation hitting him same as always, where he considered running away. No one would fault him for it. How many times had his dad told him he didn’t have to come? Thinking about that, Daichi knew it wasn’t really an option at all, and he pushed forward. His hand pulling out his phone against his better judgment. Suga hadn’t texted him back. The fear crept back in. It was too much. Too needy. Too everything. Why couldn’t Daichi just play it cool?

“Is this what you were panicking over?” Oikawa said later waving Suga’s phone at him as Suga was reorganizing the small portraits hanging in the front of the gallery.

“What the fuck, Tooru,” Suga growled leaping across the space that separated them. Oikawa held the phone up above his head. The extra inches of his height putting Suga’s phone out of reach. Suga punched Oikawa in the stomach and he folded up like a recliner chair, dropping the phone.

“You bastard,” Oikawa choked. Suga picked up the phone, sliding it into his pocket and fixing a glare on Oikawa. “I think it’s cute. What’s wrong with it?”

“It is cute, it’s just,” Suga swallowed hard, his heart clenching again.

“You’re scared,” Oikawa said seeing right through him, straightening, Suga drew back to punch him again. “Stop, stop, don’t!” Oikawa lifted his hands in surrender. “Wait, why are you scared? What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing’s going on with me,” Suga grumbled, “Nothing at all. Just a lame recluse.”

“You’re not a recluse?” Oikawa cocked his head.

“Not according to Asahi.”

“Koushi is this about Kenji?”

“It’s not about Kenji!” Suga clenched his fists, teeth set in a grimace. “That damn fucker, I… I! I fucking hate him!” Suga spit out, eyes filling with tears. “Ruining goddamn everything! I hate him!”

“Koushi?”

“Hate!”

Oikawa set his hands on Suga’s shoulders.

“Hey, hey,” he said. Suga’s lip quivered his eyebrows still pulled down angrily. “You like him though right?”

“I just told you I hate him!” Suga growled.

“No, dumbass. _Daichi_ ,” said Oikawa rolling his eyes. Suga’s face softened, the tension leaking out of his body. He could only nod his head, not trusting his voice. “Then just enjoy that he likes you too,” Oikawa said poking him in the chest. “Text him back that you wish he was here too. Ask him what the fuck is so important on Saturdays that he isn’t here with _you_.”

**To Daichi:**

Same ;)

**To Daichi:**

Sure you can’t ditch ur plans?

Daichi was getting back on the train before he saw the texts.

**To Suga:**

Can’t

**To Suga:**

Sorry

**To Suga:**

Wont b back until 10

**From Suga:**

R u at work

**To Suga:**

Hell no, not that much of a masochist

**From Suga:**

When do u ever sleep

**To Suga:**

Between 3 and 5am

**From Suga:**

U sick fuck

**From Suga:**

So where am I meeting u at 10

Daichi stared at the words, heart thumping hard, resisting the immediate desire to tell him that ten was too late, that he was tired, he didn’t feel up to it tonight. Because he’d gladly trade sleep for time with Suga.

**To Suga:**

Mind blank, suggestion?

**From Suga:**

I could kick ur ass at pacman, Akiba has arcades open late

**To Suga:**

Bold 2 think I wont kick ur ass

**From Suga:**

Meet you at the station

Daichi climbed the steps out of the station at Akihabara hoping Suga would be waiting at the exit. It was dark out and he could hear the sounds of the city at night. Music playing from the shops that were still open. Women in maid costumes were still beckoning in customers to cafés. Daichi’s eyes found the ash colored hair of a man in a denim jacket, his back to the metro, eyes turned up to the sky, breeze ruffling through his hair.

“Koushi,” he said and the man turned in surprise, a smile lighting up his face. The denim jacket was on over Daichi’s long sleeve shirt and Daichi’s hurt thumped painfully for a moment. That wasn’t fair how good he looked in it. What the fuck.

“You look like hell,” Suga greeted him.

“Thanks,” Daichi said and Suga punched his shoulder lightly.

“You gonna tell me what you’ve been up to all day?”

“Just family stuff,” Daichi said, pushing his hands into his pockets. He felt so tired. Saturdays always wiped him out, riding four hours both ways on the train.

“Family stuff?” Suga’s tone shifted. Daichi shrugged.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Daichi said with a grimace, “I’ll tell you some other time. Where’s this arcade?” he said changing the subject. Suga let it go, leading the way.

“Why are you so good at this?”

“Natural talent.”

“You probably beat those crane games too, don’t you? Not fair, not fair,” Suga groaned taking a gulp of his beer and watching Daichi soundly beat another level.

“I’m okay at it.”

“Prove it, get me something,” Suga jeered. Daichi grinned at him.

“I don’t do well under pressure.”

“What are you doing right now then?”

“This is different.”

“Lies. You’re just bragging. Get me one of those pokemon. The green one.”

“The green one?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know the one I mean.”

“You know pokemon but you don’t know what the green one is called?” Daichi was laughing, eyes crinkled up. Suga felt heady looking at him.

“Shut up! It’s like a garlic dinosaur.”

“A garlic dinosaur? Is that what it’s called?”

“Sorry I’m not a nerd like you, just tell me what it’s called, Daichi, since you know so much.”

“It’s bulbasaur, dumbass.”

“I knew that, I was testing you. Nerd.”

“Right, whatever,” Daichi said logging his high score, picking up his beer. “Where’s the garlic dinosaur, I’ll get it for you.”

“A little more to the right, come on Daichi, I thought you were good at this,” Suga said hands on the glass walls of the game as Daichi maneuvered the crane. He’d sunk 2000 yen of his own money into the game already, he’d tried to stop then but Suga kept feeding it coins.

“So close,” Suga groaned as the claw failed to lift the bulbasaur up again and then reset. “Again Daichi,” he said fishing another coin out of his pocket.

“Why don’t you try it,” Daichi offered.

“No, don’t try to get out of it, you said you were going to get it for me. Don’t chicken out, show me your skills.”

“Ten minutes,” an employee called. They were the last people left in the arcade.

“Last chance, get him Daichi,” Suga said hands on his shoulders massaging like he was a prize fighter. Daichi wanted to laugh but he could only groan.

“That feels so good.”

“You’ve got so many knots,” Suga said digging his thumbs in harder, “You work too much, Daichi. You probably sit all hunched over in front of a computer all day. You gotta loosen up.”

“Yeah, whatever. Put that coin in already, before they kick us out.”

Suga popped it in and Daichi moved the crane. They held their breath as it descended, claws clasping around the bulb on the back of the pokemon. Instead of slipping off, this time it caught, lifting up.

“Holy shit,” Suga whispered as it moved toward the exit chute. “It’s gonna catch on the edge there, Daichi do something.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Something.”

The bulbasaur caught and for a minute it seemed it was going to tumble the wrong way, but then it was falling down the chute. Suga pulled the door open and held it up in triumph.

“Daichi what the hell!”

“Told you I’d get it.”

“That was totally luck.”

“All skill.”

“Skill to blow 2000 yen.”

“It was much more than that, how much did you put in?”

“I don’t even know. Look, garlic dinosaur!”

“The guy is grabbing the broom, he’s gonna kick us out, come on,” Daichi grabbed Suga’s arm pulling him toward the exit. “What time is it? We’re going to miss the last train if we don’t hurry.”

“Shit,” Suga said, tucking the bulbasaur under his arm and catching Daichi’s hand when they were out onto the sidewalk running for the metro station, laughter bubbling out of Suga’s throat.

They pushed through the turnstiles and onto the platform. The monitor showing they still had two minutes to the last train. Suga sank down on a bench, dragging Daichi down with him.

“I can’t believe you did that.”

“No faith.”

“I’ll never doubt you again,” Suga beamed up at Daichi, and then he was leaning forward bumping noses clumsily, lips meeting. The chime was sounding.

“Koushi, it’s here,” Daichi said breathlessly pulling Suga to his feet. Suga’s head was reeling, letting Daichi pull him onto the train.

“Wait, bulbasaur!” he cried, the pokemon still sitting on the bench, Daichi leapt back off the train to grab it, Suga put his body blocking the doors from closing.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he called to the conductor leaning out the last car shaking his head at them. “Daichi, he glared at me,” Suga said when Daichi was back on board pushing the plush into Suga’s arms. Daichi leaned forward to brush lips again, laughing a little. The train lurched into motion, Suga catching hold of Daichi to keep from falling, Daichi grabbing a pole, one arm around Suga to stay upright.

When they got to Daichi’s stop Daichi’s eyelids were drooping.

“This one’s yours,” Suga said tugging on his jacket to pull him to the door.

“Nah, I’ll get off at your stop,” Daichi said not opening his eyes.

“You’re tired, get off here, you don’t want to walk all the way from my stop.”

“Why not? You always walk from mine,” Daichi said with a yawn. The doors shut ending the argument.

They got off at Suga’s stop, Suga had a hold of Daichi’s arm pulling him up the stairs.

“You’re never going to make it home,” he said when they made it above ground.

“I’m a grown ass man, I’ll be fine,” Daichi insisted.

“I live like a block from here, you can stay,” Suga said before he could think about what he was offering.

“Ah, that’s okay,” Daichi was red, looking more awake now. “I’ll be fine, it’s not that far.”

“You sure?”

“Sure,” Daichi agreed.

“I guess this is good night then,” Suga didn’t want it to be over, but they were here, there was no more delay.

“Goodnight Koushi,” Daichi said with a lazy smile.

“Why do you have to be so damn sexy when you say my name,” Suga growled grabbing the collar of Daichi’s jacket to pull him in for another kiss.

“Sorry, _Koushi_.”

“Shut up,” Suga hissed kissing him harder. Daichi stumbled back a couple of steps, laughing into Suga’s mouth. Finally panting Suga let him go.

“Okay.”

“Good night then,” Daichi said giving him a cheeky smile. “Koushi.”

“Stop it,” Suga’s face was flushed.

“You’re cute.”

“Stop flirting with me and get to walking those ten blocks, _Daichi._ Me and the garlic dinosaur are going home.”

“If you insist,” Daichi said walking backwards still smiling.

“Watch where you’re going!” Suga called after him.

“Nah, this is better.”

Suga watched him going, smiling so hard his face hurt, and then Daichi turned the corner and was gone. He exhaled, feeling his absence like a gut punch.

“I’m so fucked,” Suga groaned heading home.

“Where’ve you been?” Asahi asked sticking his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth, as Suga kicked off his shoes, humming quietly to himself, holding the bulbasaur to his chest.

“Out,” Suga answered trying to smother the smile that had been on his face all night.

“Is that a bulbasaur? Suga?” Asahi adjusted his glasses.

“It is. Daichi won it for me.”

“You were out with him? I thought he was busy on Saturdays?”

“He made time for me.”

Asahi smiled.

“I missed this Suga.”

“Huh?”

“Happy Suga, it’s been a long time.”

The smile faltered on Suga’s face, suddenly self-conscious. He laughed uneasily.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said turning on the light in his room, setting bulbasaur reverently in the center of his bed.

Later he sent Daichi a picture, bulbasaur tucked into bed beside him.

**To Daichi:**

Look how cute he is <3

Suga sent it, still smiling softly to himself. He clicked the light off and set his phone on the bedside table. He’d laid his head down on the pillow when the screen lit up with a buzz. He reached for his phone squinting against the brightness of the screen.

**From Daichi:**

Wish that was me

Heat flushed through Suga’s body.

**To Daichi:**

GO TO SLEEP

**From Daichi:**

Quit sending me messages so I can

**To Daichi:**

Rude

**From Daichi:**

Ur rude

**To Daichi:**

Im going 2 sleep now

**From Daichi:**

Sweet dreams….

…

…

**To Daichi:**

?

**From Daichi:**

K O U S H I

**To Daichi:**

I hate u

**From Daichi:**

U kno u love me

**To Daichi:**

No only hate

**From Daichi:**

Goin 2 cry myself 2 sleep now

**To Daichi:**

Good get some fuckin sleep finally stupid

**From Daichi:**

Stop txting me so I can cry in peas

Suga was wheezing with laughter, hand over his eyes.


	5. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is one Saturday too much to ask?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for a tiny bit of implied spiciness

“Daichi, this is Oikawa Tooru, don’t listen to anything he says. And Iwaizumi Hajime, he’s my favorite,” Suga said grinning. He'd said he'd do some perfect sets for Daichi and now here they were to play some two on two with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. 

“Hey!” called Oikawa raising a middle finger to Suga.

“Nice to meet you,” Daichi answered back.

“Likewise,” Iwaizumi said with a respectful nod. “So we playing two on two?”

“I haven’t played in a long time,” Daichi reminded them.

“Yeah, I don’t know if that’s fair. You and Oikawa have that nonverbal communication thing,” Suga said stretching out his legs. Oikawa was still glaring. Iwaizumi ducked his head, busy with a shoe lace, knocking Oikawa with his hip. Oikawa tripped over his feet with a cough. “I take that back, I bet we could take them, Daichi,” Suga said turning a grin to Daichi. Daichi’s smile answered his.

Oikawa sidled up to Suga to cuff him upside the head.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was hot?” he hissed, and Suga’s face flushed.

“I figured it was obvious.”

They lost the first set. Breathless Daichi mopped his face with the hem of his t-shirt, Suga was bent over his knees.

“Still think we can take them?” Daichi panted.

“Yeah, we’re just getting warmed up,” Suga said, “Your receives are killer by the way. I bet you were a starter on your high school team.” Daichi grinned. “I hate you,” Suga said smiling, “I only got to play regularly as a third year, and even then I was a backup to this hotshot first year.”

“Your tosses aren’t bad though,” Daichi said, “Always right where they need to be.”

“That’s cuz you’re putting them there,” Suga huffed, “Right where they need to be. Watch, we’ll grind them into the ground. They think they’re hot stuff but we’re reliable.” He eyed the other two over the net, Iwaizumi chugging water and Oikawa stretching his knee. He was about to say something to taunt them when he caught the look on Oikawa’s face.

“Hajime,” Suga called waving at Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi ducked under the net.

“Hey, no fraternizing with the enemy!” Oikawa called after him.

“He’s okay right?” Suga asked leaning close to the taller man. Iwaizumi turned a look back at Oikawa who was creeping after him, ducking under the neck.

“Iwa-chan, don’t take any bribes from him,” Oikawa said.

“Why?” Iwaizumi asked Suga.

“He was making the face.”

“Got it,” Iwaizumi said, turning around.

“We’re going to wipe the floor with you guys, now we’re warmed up,” Suga jeered as Iwaizumi grabbed Oikawa’s arm and hauled him back to their side of the neck. Suga bit his lip watching them.

“What was that about?” Daichi asked quietly getting into position as Iwaizumi set up to serve.

“Tooru had a bad knee injury,” Suga said softly, eyes across the net on Iwaizumi. “He was going to go pro and then when that happened, he couldn’t. Had to retire. He’s looking a little off today.”

“Oh,” Daichi hummed as Iwaizumi served, catching it with some effort, bumping it up. Suga effortlessly set up his toss and Daichi slammed it down.

They took the second set, Oikawa’s face pinched in a way that made Suga almost wish they’d lost it.

“Best of three,” Oikawa called at them, bent over his knees, face pale.

“Nah, I’m beat,” Suga rejoined sitting down on the court, “We’ll call it a tie.”

“I don’t care if you’re tired, Kouchan. Daichi, you could go another set right?” Oikawa said turning the evil eye on him. Daichi glanced at Suga who was barely shaking his head.

“I think, I uh, pulled something in my shoulder, better not. I’m way out of shape,” Daichi said slowly rolling his shoulder. Suga winked at him.

“Iwa-chan?”

“They’re both out, what are you asking me for?”

“You’re all lame,” Oikawa complained stomping across the court to grab his water bottle.

Suga flashed Iwaizumi a thumbs up.

“I’m going to be sore as fuck tomorrow,” Daichi said as they walked toward the train station.

“Hey,” Suga plopped down onto the seat next to Daichi Tuesday afternoon on the train. Daichi looked up in surprise.

“I didn’t know you were here?” Daichi said. Suga gave him a broad grin.

“I was on the next car up, I saw you through the window,” he said elbowing Daichi. “I had to get off at the last station and push three little old ladies over to get onto this car.”

“You did not.”

“They’re over there glaring at me right now,” Suga insisted gesturing towards the front of the car. Daichi craned his neck to see and Suga smothered his laugh.

“Friday’s Halloween right? Tooru invited me to this party, you want to go?” Suga asked, voice wobbling a little. Daichi turned back to him to see the pink in his cheeks. It was cute. Daichi elbowed him back.

“Sure. Is it a costume party?”

“Yeah, that’s the other thing,” Suga said. “You’d really go?”

“Do I not look like the party type?”

“I don’t know, maybe?”

“What’s that mean?”

“I mean, if you didn’t want to go that’s okay. Staying in is fine with me.”

“What would Asahi say about that?”

“Nothing worth hearing,” Suga said smiling shyly.

“Do you not want to go?”

“I want to go, but only if I can go with you.”

“Well you’ve got me.”

“What are you going to dress up as?”

“It’s a secret. What about you?” Daichi asked.

“No way am I going to tell you if you won’t tell me.”

“What if we go as the same thing?”

“Let’s do it. You try to guess what I’m going to go as, and I’ll guess what you’re going as and we’ll try to match,” Suga said grinning. “Quick look into my eyes and transmit it telepathically.”

“But if I go as what you’re going to go as, and you go as what I’m going to go as, then we won’t match.”

“We’ll match. Daichi look into my eyes.”

“Koushi.”

“No, no sexy talk,” Suga said grinning putting his hands on Daichi’s cheeks and holding him, gazing into his eyes. Daichi’s heart leapt, pounding, Suga’s eyes were light brown flecked with green, sparkling, he felt dizzy for a minute with it. Suga’s eyes crinkled, giggling a little. The chime was playing.

“Daichi it’s your stop,” he said letting go of Daichi’s face. Daichi stumbled to his feet and then changed his mind. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll get off with you.”

“Kinky.”

“Shut up.”

“Sawamura, is that you?” the voice caught Daichi off guard, he was standing near the bar but was scanning the door waiting for Sugawara. He turned to the woman who’d addressed him, though he knew her voice, he fumbled for a minute trying to tie it together with the woman in front of him.

“Michimiya?” Daichi choked. She was dressed as a cat, all in black, ears on a headband, whiskers drawn in on her cheeks, a pink nose, a ribbon around her neck with a bell.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” she said blushing. “I mean, what are you? A demon?”

“Uh,” Daichi felt heat flush his face.

“No, it’s nice! It’s a good costume. I definitely have been staring at you for ten minutes trying to figure out if it was you or not,” she said and then her face got redder, “I’m sorry that sounds weird.”

“No, it’s fine,” Daichi said with a grin, “I like your costume too. I can tell exactly what you are.” Michimiya laughed.

“I’m here with some of my girlfriends, but I thought I’d say hi. And um, Sawamura?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you want to go to a party after this? With me? Uh, with us? My brother is putting it on at his place.”

“Sorry, but not tonight. I’ve already got plans.”

“Maybe some other time? Would you want to grab coffee? Or dinner or something?” she was beaming up at him, clearly encouraged by his comment about not tonight. It took Daichi a moment to realize what she was asking him.

“Like a date?”

“Yeah, dummy, like a date,” she said. Daichi swallowed.

“Michimiya,” he started.

“Hey Daichi!” the voice turned his head to the silver haired man dressed up like Dracula, hair slicked back, two red lines of “blood” tracing lines down from his mouth.

“That’s uh, that’s my boyfriend,” Daichi told Michimiya. She was looking now as Suga was elbowing his way through the crowd.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice.

“That is Daichi right?” Suga asked joining them, tilting his head at Daichi. Then without waiting for an answer he lifted up the mask to peer up at Daichi grinning. “Yep, knew it.” And then he seemed to realize Michimiya was there, his smile fell.

“Oh, sorry, did I interrupt something?”

“This is my coworker, Michimiya Yui,” Daichi said gesturing to her, “Michimiya this is Sugawara Koushi.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m just going. See you around, Sawamura,” Michimiya squeaked retreating.

“Coworker?” Suga asked in a smaller voice.

“Thank god, you arrived just in time,” Daichi exhaled leaning into Suga’s shoulder. “She was asking me out.”

“What’d you say?”

“That I have a _boyfriend_ ,” Daichi said grinning. Suga’s face flushed, he reached to lift the mask up again.

“It’s weird when I can’t see your face. Say it again,” he said smiling.

“My _boyfriend_ ,” Daichi said again, Suga’s grin spreading. Daichi felt warm. If they hadn’t been surrounded by so many people he would’ve kissed Suga. “So you’re Dracula?”

“I vant to drink your blood,” Suga quipped reaching for Daichi’s neck.

“Be gentle, Koushi,” Daichi with fake fear. Suga punched him.

“Quit it, Daichi.”

“So Oikawa and Iwaizumi are meeting us?”

“Supposedly,” Suga said. “You want a drink?”

“Sure thing.”

With a flourish of his cape Suga spun to approach the bar. Daichi watched him go, smiling.

“Kouchan, what are you supposed to be? A cannibal?” Oikawa was draped on Iwaizumi, they were tucked in a corner of the living room. The night had taken a turn when they’d finally caught up with Oikawa and Iwaizumi who had clearly been out for much longer than Daichi and Suga had. The party was in a cramped house, filled with people that Daichi did not know. He was pretty sure that Suga didn’t know any of them either. He almost wished they had stayed at the bar. Suga kept shooting Daichi squinty eyed grins, Oikawa could not stand up, and Iwaizumi’s face was red, and when he wasn’t nodding off, he was handsy with Oikawa, touching his hair, kissing his neck, all sorts of things that were unsettling only because sober Iwaizumi would never.

“Clearly I’m Dracula, Tooru. What are you supposed to be?”

Oikawa looked down at his Superman costume in confusion.

“I don’t remember his name, Iwa-chan, who am I?” he said elbowing Iwaizumi who startled, blinking sleepily at Oikawa.

“You’re superman, Shittykawa,” he grumbled closing his eyes and tucking his head back against Oikawa’s shoulder.

“We’d better take them home,” Suga said later, the house had only gotten more crowded, hot and sweaty and Daichi had been ready to leave an hour ago. Together they corralled the two out, Oikawa protesting that they could get home just fine, hanging off Suga’s shoulder, knees wobbling. Daichi took hold of him from the other side. Iwaizumi trailed drowsily along after them, Suga grabbing his arm when he drifted too far.

The metro was crowded with all sorts of people, Jokers and Sailor Moons, witches and Freddie Mercurys, they got Iwaizumi and Oikawa down in seats, Daichi had hold of a bar and Suga caught his arm when the train lurched forward. Suga smiled up at Daichi and Daichi found his night was getting better already.

“Goodnight Kouchan,” sang Oikawa hunting through his pocket for the key when they’d finally arrived at the front step of the little house.

“Tooru, I have the key,” mumbled Iwaizumi pushing by Oikawa to try to unlock the door, he only got the key in before he was distracted brushing Oikawa’s hair back from his face.

“Are they going to be alright?” Daichi asked Suga opening the door.

“They’re fine,” Suga said herding them inside. “You’re going to drink water and go right to bed, right?” he asked Oikawa as Iwaizumi wandered off toward the bedroom.

“We’re going out though,” Oikawa said confused, “We got all dressed up now we gotta go out.”

“We’ve been out, it’s after midnight, time to go home.”

“It’s not after midnight,” Oikawa said. Suga pointed to the green time display on the tv that said 12:35.

“Sorry Tooru, it definitely is.”

“No fun,” Oikawa said kicking off his shoes and sitting down with his back to the couch, blinking owlishly at them.

“Okay, goodnight,” Suga said with a wave. Oikawa yawned and waved back.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t, Kouchan,” he said.

“What would that be?” Suga asked, and Oikawa frowned.

“Good point.”

Out on the front step Suga beamed up at Daichi.

“Okay the babies are safely home, what now, Daichi?”

Daichi smiled back at him.

“Are they always like that?”

“Not usually,” Suga said as they started for the metro station, “Only special occasions.”

The last train had already gone. The walk from the house was not unthinkable. Daichi soaked in the crisp night air, Suga’s hand in his.

“How was that? Was it worth it going out?” Suga asked when they’d found their familiar conbini. The street was nearly empty.

“It’s nicer out here,” Daichi admitted. “How about you? Would you have rather stayed in?”

“It wasn’t bad,” Suga said, “I’m sorry you didn’t wear the same costume as me though, I thought for sure Dracula was what you’d go for.”

“What about me says Dracula?”

“It was your eyes when you were looking at me on the train. I was sure you were thinking Dracula.”

“And you were thinking devil, right? I knew this would backfire,” Daichi said grinning.

“I’m offended you saw a devil when you looked into my eyes.”

“Let me look again,” Daichi said. They paused, Suga turning to him. “Nope they’re still saying devil.” Suga punched him, with a burst of laughter.

“You’re a dumbass.”

“What did you think I’d say, angel?”

“No I thought you’d see Dracula. My true form,” Suga laughed pulling Daichi closer. “Just one little bite,” he said moving as if he was going to bite Daichi’s neck. Daichi laughed trying to push him off, wrestling as they approached Suga’s apartment building. And then they were kissing in the street lamplight, Suga hungry at Daichi’s mouth, fingers in his hair.

“Come up,” Suga said breathlessly fumbling at the keypad to the door, face glowing and Daichi couldn’t say no.

They were kissing hard, Suga stumbling backwards into his apartment. Daichi shut the door behind them. Suga laughed as they broke contact, kicking off their shoes, he peered into the darkened apartment.

“Is Asahi here?” Daichi whispered. Another bubble of laughter broke from Suga’s throat and he pressed a hand over his mouth, reaching for Daichi’s hand with his other.

“Don’t think so,” he said, with a giggle.

“Good,” Daichi’s arms were around him again, lips against his neck. Suga couldn’t stop laughing.

“That tickles.”

Daichi nipped at him and Suga choked on a moan.

“Hold on, hold on,” he said breathlessly, pulling Daichi back toward his room. “What if Asahi was actually here?”

“Don’t care,” Daichi said.

“Ooh kinky, Daichi,” Suga teased, then they were in his room. Daichi’s lips back on his throat, hands working on the buttons of his shirt. Suga let Daichi push him down on the bed, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him down on top, noses bumping, Suga laughing again.

Daichi woke with Suga still tucked against him, skin to skin. Suga was snoring softly, breath gentle against Daichi’s throat. For a terrible moment Daichi was convinced it was Monday and he was late to work. Then he remembered it was Saturday and somehow that was worse. The sun was already up, peeking through Suga’s blinds. Daichi had only been in Suga’s room once before briefly, and now he could drink it up, canvases stacked against the wall. There was something started on his desk propped up. It was blues and yellows, the shapes like a subway map. There were their clothes all over the floor. Daichi didn’t know where his phone had gone. Craning his neck he finally saw the clock on Suga’s night side table. It was almost nine-thirty. Daichi’s heart jumped. Gently he tried to extract himself from Suga. He was going to be late if he didn’t leave soon. He hated it. He really did.

Suga groaned softly, arms tightening around him.

“Five more minutes,” he said voice rough with sleep.

“Koushi, I gotta go,” Daichi whispered.

“No you don’t. Stay here,” Suga mumbled back, pressing his lips to Daichi’s sternum.

“Please, I need to go.”

Suga’s eyes cracked open at him.

“It’s nine-thirty, I’m gonna miss the train.”

“Daichi it’s Saturday, you don’t have to work.”

“It’s Saturday, Koushi, I need to go.”

“Why?”

Daichi got his hands on Suga’s shoulders gently pushing him off, sitting up. Suga frowned up at him.

“Daichi?”

“It’s a family thing.”

“You always say that,” Suga said softly. Daichi slid out of bed, then feeling self-conscious, looking for his underwear.

“Why do you say that like I’m lying?”

Suga shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself.

“I wish you’d stay.”

“I wish I could,” Daichi said looking back at Suga, eyes pinched.

“Then stay, it’s just one Saturday.”

“I can’t.”

Daichi pulled on his jeans.

“You gonna go as the devil? How’s your family feel about that?”

“No I’m going to borrow one of your shirts.”

“You are not,” Suga mumbled smiling a little, “I’d like to see that.”

Daichi was in his closet shuffling through the options, all a size too small.

“Here,” Suga finally crawled out of bed, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders like a cape, he joined Daichi at the closet, fishing through and pulling out a deep purple shirt, advertising Suga’s highschool’s volleyball club. “They gave me a big one, this’ll fit I bet,” he said with half a smile, poking Daichi in the stomach.

“It’s all muscle.”

“Yep, right,” Suga laughed. Daichi tugged it on. “Oof,” Suga whispered, “how sexy that is should be illegal.”

“Whatever,” Daichi said with a grin, he flexed his arms and Suga groaned.

“Stop it,” Suga said leaning to kiss him.

“Make me,” Daichi growled back, arms around Suga. They kissed, Daichi’s hands on Suga’s face. “Shit,” he hissed then, “You’re making me late.”

“Stay.”

“I _can’t_ , Koushi.”

“Please?”

“ _I can’t_.”

When Daichi was gone, Suga crawled back into bed and curled up, wrapping his arms around his ribs, feeling empty.

“Suga are you here?” Asahi’s voice carried through the apartment, and Suga groggily opened his eyes. He didn’t know what time it was but Daichi had been gone for hours, his chest still ached. In his head, they spent today together, he made Daichi breakfast, it was bad but Daichi pretended it was the best thing he’d ever eaten, and then they had a lazy afternoon. Maybe Suga could convince him to go to the art museum with him. He wondered if Daichi would’ve been opposed or not. “Suga?” Asahi’s voice was softer, he was in the doorframe now. Looking in at where Suga was still buried beneath the blankets.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asked sounding worried. Suga shut his eyes and sighed.

“I’m fine,” he said and rolled over, not sure he wanted to have this conversation right now.

“You know it’s almost three right? Have you even gotten up yet?” Asahi’s voice pitching up, Suga grimaced, rolling over had been the wrong choice to try and make him go away.

“Sure, I’ve gotten up I’m just taking a nap, long night,” Suga grumbled. His bed shifted as Asahi sat down on the edge.

“But you’re not dressed?”

“Maybe I’m napping off some really good morning sex.”

“Where’s Daichi then?”

Suga’s breath left his lungs, shoulders tight.

“Gone.”

“Gone?”

“It’s Saturday,” Suga said.

“But he was here?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Asahi,” Suga said in a warning tone.

“His mask is still on the kitchen counter,” Asahi said. Suga felt like he’d been punched again. He rolled back over to face Asahi. He was looking at the painting propped up on the desk, Suga had been feeling good about it but now it was hard to look at.

“I thought he’d stay. I thought I could make him stay,” Suga said. Asahi turned to look at him.

“Where’s he go?”

“I think back to Miyagi. He says family stuff but won’t tell me what.”

Asahi sighed.

“And you’ve tried asking him? You’re not just making assumptions?”

“Do I look like an infant?” Suga asked back irritably, “I can have serious conversations. I’ve tried asking him. He said he didn’t want to talk about it then, that he’d tell me later. But then he never does.”

“Do you think it’s somebody else?”

“I mean, either that or it actually is family stuff,” Suga said, “I feel like I’m just waiting for him to get tired of me, and then there’s no end to the excuses. And I won’t know the difference. Blindsided.”

Asahi frowned.

“Maybe you’ll get tired of him first?” Asahi suggested. “Not every relationship is going to end up being like Kenji,” he added softer. Suga clenched his teeth.

“I know that. Why can’t I feel it?”

Asahi put his hand on Suga’s shoulder. Suga shut his eyes trying to soak in the comfort, it felt hollow. Everything felt hollow.

“Give it some time.”

“How long is long enough?”

**To Tooru:**

Can u come nurse me back 2 health

**From Tooru:**

?? where is devil Daichi

**To Tooru:**

Family stuff Saturday

**From Tooru:**

That bastard

“Is this all you’ve got?” Oikawa was staring at the painting propped up on the desk, tilting his head and squinting. Suga was finally dressed but still wrapped in a blanket on his bed.

“I don’t want to talk about art,” Suga complained.

“Sure you do, you always want to talk about art Kouchan, that’s who you are. Tell me where this is going because it’s not finished yet, right?”

Suga shrugged, reluctantly looking at the painting, the blocks of yellow and tangerine, a hopeful future that felt unrealistic now.

“I don’t know where it’s going, that’s the problem,” he grumbled. Oikawa sat down beside him, still eyeing the painting.

“Have you considered toning down some of the saturation? That’d give it more motion, maybe a direction.” Suga pressed his lips together, seeing then what Oikawa was suggesting.

“You sicken me.”

“That’s why I’m the gallery owner and you’re the high school art teacher.”

“I hate you.”

“Sure you do, Kou-chan,” Oikawa sang wrapping his arms around Suga and pressing their cheeks together. Suga felt a smile pull on his lips.

“Your apartment is so dreary, Azumane-san worrying in the next room is very unsexy, come over to my place. I’ll make you dinner.”

“You can’t cook.”

“I can’t cook _well_ , but Iwa-chan is home today and he can,” Oikawa said with a wink.

“I thought there was a tournament this weekend?” Suga asked. Iwaizumi was an athletic trainer for a local team, he’d spent 30% of the previous night talking about this out of town tournament they were leaving for today.

“Iwa had it wrong. We were both a little tipsy last night.”

“A little?”

“Maybe a lot more than a little,” Oikawa laughed. “Come on, put on some pants and we’ll go.”

“I am wearing pants.”

“Sweatpants don’t count. Not allowed.”

“Hey Hajime,” Suga addressed Iwaizumi who was working on something at the stove. Iwaizumi raised a hand in greeting not turning around.

“What’s up, Suga? You staying for dinner?”

“Yes please.”

“Tooru, why don’t you show him what you’re working on. Maybe he can help you,” Iwaizumi said to Oikawa, turning a look over his shoulder.

“Want to talk some more art?” Oikawa asked leading Suga to where he’d set up his studio in the small house. Suga sucked in a breath when Oikawa flipped on the light. The four canvasses were lined up together on the wall.

“There’s something not right about the colors but I can’t put my finger on it,” Oikawa said crossing his arms. Suga said nothing walking up close to soak in the details. They were three portraits from a distance and up close they dissolved into colors and shapes. Suga shivered.

“I think the colors are fine,” he finally said looking back to Oikawa, there was a lump in his throat, a pinching feeling of inadequacy in his chest. “Way to just put me to shame, this is your whole show right?” Oikawa nodded, but his brows were still furrowed. Suga backed up to stand next to him. His phone was buzzing. His fingers itched for it, sure it was Daichi.

“Let him wait,” Oikawa said sternly. Suga crossed his arms and considered the paintings.

“Ready to eat?” Iwaizumi poked his head in. Suga turned to him, Iwaizumi’s eyes were on the paintings, lips curved up in a smile.

“They’re great aren’t they?” Suga asked him. Iwaizumi flushed a little as Oikawa turned to hear his answer.

“They’re not bad,” he said. Suga elbowed Oikawa.

“See, high praise from Hajime.”

“He doesn’t have an eye for art though, he likes everything I make, even the bad stuff.”

“Is that something to complain about?” Suga asked.

“I tried to teach him but he just doesn’t get it,” Oikawa said waving his hand dismissively.

“Shut up before I take it back, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said.

“Why can’t you call me something cute, Iwa-chan? You’re always so foul,” Oikawa complained. He was beaming though. Suga smiled to himself, sliding the phone out of his pocket as he followed them into the kitchen.

“Kouchan put it away,” Oikawa said snatching the phone out of Suga’s hands.

“Hey!”

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said in warning.

“He can wait,” Oikawa said.

“What if it’s not Daichi?”

“It is,” Oikawa said opening the screen and glaring down at the notification, he read the message, expression softening. Then he handed it back to Suga.

**To Suga:**

Want 2 come over 2nite

Daichi looked at the message and erased it again. He was on his way back to the station, stomach growling but all he could think about was getting back to Tokyo. He’d eat something on the train, grab something from a vending machine, there wasn’t enough time. The weekends were too short.

**To Suga:**

I miss u

Last night was…

I’m sorry I couldn’t stay

I wanted to

Wish we could’ve laid in ur bed all day

Could’ve…

Embarrassed Asahi when he came home

My dad wants 2 meet u

Do u hate me

I hate me a little bit

I hope u don’t tho

You’re the thing I look forward to the most right now

Just being together not doing anything

Maybe doing something

I love you

Daichi leaned his forehead against the seat in front of him, every message was wrong, he wanted to talk to Suga not send him words through a phone, wrap his arms around him. All day all he could think of was the face Suga had been making at him from bed when he’d told him he couldn’t stay.

**To Suga:**

Can I call u?

He finally sent it, and then immediately felt stupid because he couldn’t talk on the phone on the train. There was no immediate answer from Suga, which wasn’t weird necessarily. But it didn’t make him feel better.

Suga picked at dinner, turning over Daichi’s message in his head. He felt sick with dread. It felt like the equivalent of ‘we need to talk’. Oikawa and Iwaizumi were arguing over the merits of the hot pot broth.

“The one you made before was better.”

“And I’m saying they’re exactly the same, Shittykawa.”

“You’re wrong, this one is spicier and worse.”

“Suga, what do you think?”

“You can’t ask him, he didn’t taste the other one. And Kouchan would never side against something for being spicy.”

“What’s wrong with a little spice?”

“Nothing, it’s just _not the same_.”

“It’s good, Hajime, I like it,” Suga put in, tired of listening to them argue about it. Oikawa fixed him with a glare.

“Did you text him back?” this was clearly retribution for siding against him.

“Text who?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Daichi,” said Oikawa.

“His costume last night was great,” Iwaizumi said, “I don’t remember if I told him that.”

“It was, wasn’t it,” Suga said sighing.

“That’s not the good kind of sigh,” Iwaizumi said.

“No.”

“They did it and then Daichi blew him off this morning,” Oikawa said.

“He’s got a longstanding Saturday family thing. I shouldn’t have expected anything different. Wait, I didn’t tell you we did it?” Suga’s face was red.

“You didn’t have to,” Oikawa said smugly.

“Look, I don’t want to hear any of this. I’ve told you two a thousand times I don’t want to hear about the sex life of my friends,” Iwaizumi said, cuffing Oikawa on the back of the head. “So what’s the problem then, Suga? You like him don’t you?”

“But then he texted me asking if he could call me?”

“And?”

“And he’s going to break up with me. He told one of his coworkers last night I was his _boyfriend_ and now he’s going to break up with me,” Suga’s voice cracked.

“You’ve got to beat him to the punch and break up with him first,” said Oikawa and Iwaizumi hit him again. “Iwa!”

“Don’t listen to Shittykawa, why don’t you just call him and see what he’s got to say? Daichi seems reasonable to me, I don’t think he would just flip on you like that.”

“You’ve only met him once,” said Oikawa.

“Twice. Exactly as many times as you. Why are you encouraging this, Oikawa? Suga, just call him.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can. I’ll help you, give me your phone.”

“No!”

“C’mon Suga, don’t be a coward. He probably just wants to talk dirty to you on the train.”

“Iwa-chan! Foul!” Oikawa tried a slap at Iwaizumi’s shoulder but Iwaizumi deflected it.

Suga’s face flushed. He opened his phone, half way convinced he could do it. The other two were silent across the table, eyes on him.

“Ugh, I can’t do it with you guys looking at me like that.” Iwaizumi immediately looked away but Oikawa’s eyes were still fixed on him. Iwaizumi hit him one more time for good measure, standing up to clear the dishes.

“Suga, I still think you should make him chase you. Don’t be too eager.”

“That’s shit coming from you,” jeered Iwaizumi from the sink where he was rinsing his bowl. “King of eagerness.” It was Oikawa’s turn to flush. Suga laughed a little to see his friend flustered.

“Good one, Hajime, gotta keep him humble,” Suga said sliding the phone back into his pocket and shoveling the last of his food into his mouth, drinking the broth, then helping clear the table while Oikawa pouted.

Once the dishwasher was humming Suga pulled his jacket back on to leave.

“Call him,” Iwaizumi said as Suga pulled on his shoes. “He’s not gonna break up with you. You’re a catch and he knows it.” Suga forced a smile. “I’m serious,” Iwaizumi said.

“Stop being so nice you’re freaking me out,” Suga said. “Tooru, I’m leaving, are you still over there sulking?”

“I’m not sulking,” Oikawa returned getting to his feet pursing his lips. “I’m just being uneager.” Suga laughed this time.

“He didn’t mean it in a bad way Tooru-chan. You’re passionate, that’s just how you are. You’re the least apathetic person I know,” Suga said. Oikawa’s eyes were bright he turned to Iwaizumi.

“Iwa?”

Iwaizumi shrugged.

“Suga, now you’ve done it,” he said trying not to smile as Oikawa linked their arms, resting his chin on Iwazumi’s shoulder.

“I’ll see you guys later.”

“Call him, Suga.”

“Remember you don’t need him. You’re great all on your own, Kouchan.”

Suga smiled at them and let himself out.

Outside it was sprinkling and he pulled up his hood, opening his phone and pulling up Daichi’s contact. Instead he found his eyes on the time. If he hurried he thought he could probably just catch Daichi at the station on the way home. No phone call necessary. He shivered, heart jumping at the idea.

Suga saw Daichi before Daichi saw him. He staggered off the train looking tired, dark circles under his eyes, still wearing Suga’s t-shirt. Suga stood up and watched Daichi’s face light up and all the fears he’d had dissipated. They closed the distance, Daichi throwing his arms around Suga’s shoulders pulling him tight.

“You didn’t text me back?” he asked.

“I thought you were going to break up with me.”

“Why would I do that?” Daichi pushed Suga back, searching his face brows knitting together in confusion. Suga’s face felt hot.

“I thought maybe you were tired of me.”

“Koushi, how could I get tired of you?” Daichi’s voice was thin.

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid.”

“I just don’t get it.”

“You just left me this morning.”

“Suga.”

“I know, family stuff,” Suga said scratching the back of his head, embarrassed. “I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“Koushi,” Daichi put his hands on Suga’s face pulling him close to kiss him as the train blew out of the station. Suga leaned into him, hands in Daichi’s jacket pulling him closer. “Koushi, I…I missed you,” Daichi breathed out.

“I missed you too,” Suga said, Daichi brushing a loose strand of hair back from his face.

“Did you do anything good today?”

Suga stuffed his fists into the pockets of his jacket as they climbed up the steps to the street. _Lay in bed and was miserable._

“I went over to Tooru’s, Hajime made dinner. They’re such an old married couple at home, it’s funny,” Suga said. “Tooru’s done with his pieces for the show too. I need to work harder.”

“You’ve still got a few weeks left though, right?” Daichi asked.

“I guess.”

“I like the one you’re working on right now,” Daichi said. Suga looked over to find Daichi looking back at him, very sincere. “It feels like you.”

“Does it?”

“It does. I think so,” Daichi said looking embarrassed, “Its warm, it’s like when I get on the train and you’re already there.” Suga smiled sliding his hand into Daichi’s.

“Real smooth, Sawamura, next you’re gonna be talking me into coming home with you tonight.”

“Well…”

Suga punched Daichi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really struggling with the next two chapters so forgive me if there's some delay. Also potentially it might end up being 8 chapters instead of 7 but that's not a bad thing right? :)


	6. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catching the first train

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled with this one a lot. I was thinking about cutting it in half and ending up with 8 chapters but I think that's maybe just because I don't want it to end. So here's a longer chapter.

“Sawamura, they’re going to post that position in the editing department,” Ennoshita was at the vending machine ahead of Daichi, pulling out the warm can of coffee. He popped the tab and took a sip.

“Very funny,” Daichi said sticking his yen into the machine and debating what he wanted to drink.

“It’s no joke, ask Michimiya she’s the one who told me. She’s got that buddy in HR,” Ennoshita said impassively. Daichi shrugged a little at that. “You’re still not talking to her?”

“She’s avoiding me.”

“I wonder why.”

Daichi gave Ennoshita a look. He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s not like you didn’t see it coming though,” he said, “I must’ve told you a hundred times.”

“I thought you were kidding,” Daichi said turning back to the machine and picking a coffee at random, “I was hoping you’d tell her I wasn’t interested.”

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Ennoshita, I have a _boyfriend_ ,” Daichi said. Ennoshita smiled.

“There it is, here I thought we were friends and it’s taken you this long to finally tell me.”

“I figured Michimiya told you.”

“She did, but I thought I’d hear it from you not her,” said Ennoshita shrugging. “You gonna bring him to the holiday party this year? Michimiya said he’s cute.”

Daichi smiled a little to himself.

“I suppose I could,” he said popping the tab on his coffee. Ennoshita thumped him on the shoulder.

“That’s the spirit. Now go update your resume and get your ass over into editing.”

Getting into the elevator afterward, Daichi cursed his luck. Already inside was none other than the person who’d been avoiding him all week.

“Morning, Michimiya.”

Michimiya blushed looking away.

“Good morning Sawamura,” she answered him. “Hey, I wanted to apologize for the other night, I just thought…”

“It’s okay,” Daichi assured her stuffing his hands in his pockets. “You couldn’t have known. I hadn’t told anyone before I told you.”

“Oh,” Michimiya clenched her hands together uncomfortably. “I’m sorry anyway.” The door opened to their floor, Daichi let her out first, fully expecting her to make a run for it. Michimiya hesitated waiting for him. “Say Sawamura, did Ennoshita tell you about the editing job? You should really put in for it.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Daichi said.

“Why the hesitation? Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting for, for like, forever?” she asked brow furrowing.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Daichi said. “I don’t think I’ve got the experience they want though.”

“Put in for it anyway, what do you have to lose?”

“Suga?” Asahi’s voice broke the trance Suga was in. He’d been staring at the blank canvas for nearly an hour, knowing he was running out of time to finish, and here he couldn’t even start.

“I’m busy,” Suga told him resolutely although he wanted nothing more than a distraction.

“Daichi’s here,” Asahi called back.

“Oh?” Suga leapt up, skidding out of the room. They’d agreed to get together for dinner because Daichi had laundry to do and Suga needed to work on the paintings. Was it dinner time already? The clock on the stove showed 4:30.

“I’m early,” Daichi apologized kicking off his shoes, letting Suga take his jacket. Suga threw it onto the kitchen table, to which Asahi shook his head retrieving it to hang up.

“Less laundry than you thought?” 

“More actually, it just didn’t take as long as I thought it would. How’s the painting?”

“Terrible,” Suga groaned. “I haven’t touched it, I’ve got three more and I can’t even start.”

“I wish I could help,” Daichi said.

“Please, just paint them for me.”

“Okay, just tell me what color you want,” Daichi said heading for Suga’s room. Suga followed after him, smiling and then a little alarmed because he was going to actually do it. Daichi stood in front of the canvas that was propped up, the empty white taunting.

“Okay, let’s do it.”

“Daichi you don’t have to.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I mean…” Suga hesitated.

“Will I fuck them up that badly?” Daichi asked grinning. Suga winced with a smile.

“It feels like cheating.”

“You could just paint over it. Maybe it’d feel better to have them not be blank?”

“I suppose.”

“So what color?” Daichi looked through the tubes of paint that were haphazardly spread over the surface of the desk. “Sugawara-sensei I need some input.” Suga considered, sitting back on his desk chair. Daichi held up options. Greens and golds, reds and blues.

“You pick,” Suga said at last.

“You sure?”

“I can always paint over it,” Suga reminded him. Daichi picked a dark blue, glancing at Suga as he laid the canvas down and squeezed the paint out directly onto the canvas and then, using a brush that was way too small for the surface area he was trying to cover, he went at it. Suga was grinning shaking his head.

“You got something to say over there, sensei?”

“Use a bigger brush, Daichi, watching you is giving me anxiety. It’s all going to dry before you spread it out.”

“Okay sensei,” Daichi dropped the brush into the dirty glass of water and looked for a bigger brush. That one finished he propped it back up. “Where are the other two?”

Suga dug them out from the stack beside his book shelf. Daichi painted them without further criticism.

“Okay, now that your show pieces are done let’s go,” Daichi said with a grin. Suga grabbed his sweatshirt without argument.

“I don’t know if I should though,” Daichi said from the stove cooking the two omelets. After a brief argument about the merits of going out versus staying in, Suga had won and they’d headed to Daichi’s apartment for dinner. Suga was sitting on the kitchen counter eying the blank expanse of Daichi’s living room wall. Now that he was away from the canvases he was itching to paint.

“Why not?” he asked turning back to Daichi appreciating the curve of the muscles on his back. Suga suppressed the urge to get off the counter and kiss the back of Daichi’s neck.

“I don’t have the experience. What if it’s worse than what I’m doing right now?” Daichi said glancing over at Suga.

“It couldn’t be worse,” Suga assured him.

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ve heard you talk about your job right now and it’s my objective opinion that doing something you’re actually interested in could not possibly be worse.”

Daichi slid the omelets out of the pan onto two plates, setting them down on the table. Suga slid off the counter to join him.

“Hot sauce?” Daichi asked with a grin.

“Do you even have to ask?” Suga answered. “You should definitely put in for it though. Might as well try it. If it’s worse you can always try something else.”

“I suppose.”

“I’m going to make you a painting for that wall,” Suga said applying the hot sauce liberally, pointing to the wall he meant. Daichi watching him pouring on the hot sauce, grimacing.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to though,” Suga answered, cutting his bite with the chopsticks and popping it into his mouth and then choking as it burned his mouth. He took a big swallow of water to wash it down and Daichi laughed at him.

“Too spicy?”

“No! Too hot! There’s no such thing as too spicy,” Suga said shaking his head at Daichi. 

“Daichi someone’s calling,” Daichi’s head was heavy on Suga’s shoulder, the movie three quarters over, the heavy blanket pleasant enough Suga had begun drifting off himself when he heard the buzzing of Daichi’s phone on the table.

“Daichi,” he reached to touch his shoulder, then seeing the caller ID a small spur of panic jumped in his chest. “Daichi, who’s Kaori?”

“Huh?” Daichi’s brow furrowed, lifting his head. The buzzing of his phone had stopped. “What’d you say? What’d I miss now?” he said groggily blinking at the movie.

“Someone named Kaori was calling your phone,” Suga said reaching for it, his hands shaking. When he turned to hand the phone to Daichi, Daichi’s face had gone pale.

“Sorry, I have to,” he said immediately redialing the number and disentangling himself from the blanket and Suga, he padded toward the kitchen. Suga paused the movie, pulling the blanket back up around his shoulders, cold without Daichi beside him. He leaned over the back of the couch to watch him. Daichi had the phone to his ear and his other hand over his face.

“Hi, sorry I missed your call,” he said when they picked up. “Is it…?” He had his back to Suga now, shoulders slumped. Suga felt the pinch of dread in the pit of his stomach, brain already miles ahead inventing excuses, explanations.

“Is it bad?” Daichi asked after a moment, his voice creaking. “Oh. Okay. I… no, I get it. What time is it? The trains have probably stopped running already. Jesus…” he hissed leaning down onto the counter, propped up on his elbows.

“No. No. Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry a hundred times,” he was cut off. “Okay… okay. I’ll be on the train at five. Call me if something changes okay? Okay?”

He set the phone down on the counter and Suga was holding his breath. He waited a minute, two, Daichi did not move.

“Everything okay?” Suga asked, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “Daichi?”

Daichi didn’t move, but Suga could see him shaking his head. He climbed off the couch and walked to where Daichi was, face in his hands.

“What is it?”

“My dad,” Daichi’s voice was shuddering. Suga felt the air leave his lungs, lost suddenly. “He’s… uh… he’s in the hospital,” Daichi was trying to keep his voice level.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s sick, has been… for a while, uh,” Daichi mumbled scrubbing his face, then lifting his head to chance a look at Suga, his eyes were red. Suga wrapped his arms around Daichi’s waist, resting his head against his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

“I’ve got to leave on the first train. Kaori said… I don’t know if…” Daichi couldn’t finish either of those thoughts. Suga bit his lip.

“I can go home. You should get some sleep.”

Daichi didn’t argue, wilting a little in Suga’s arms.

“Or I’ll stay if you want?”

“Please,” Daichi choked out.

“It’ll be okay,” Suga promised him. “You want to lay down for a bit? I’ll pack you a bag.”

Daichi didn’t argue, letting Suga pull him to the bedroom, directing him down onto the futon. Suga threw the comforter over him, but Daichi caught his hand pulling him down to join him. Suga slid under the comforter, arms around Daichi, holding him close. Daichi was shuddering, Suga tucked Daichi’s head under his chin, rubbing his back.

“You should try to get some sleep,” he whispered.

Suga wasn’t sure if Daichi really fell asleep, but he definitely didn’t, his mind running on ahead. Waves of guilt, knowing Daichi had this big terrible thing he’d been keeping to himself. He felt shitty for every time he’d felt begrudging about Daichi’s Saturday family stuff. He felt sick that Daichi hadn’t felt like he could tell him, let him help.

At three thirty he carefully slipped out from under the covers, with his phone as a flashlight, he emptied Daichi’s work bag and put in a change of clothes, an extra sweatshirt. Creeping into the kitchen he looked through the fridge wanting to pack something for Daichi to eat on the train back to Miyagi. At four he woke Daichi, called him a cab to the station. Daichi was a zombie at best, eyes distant, Suga handed him the bag, the sad excuse for a breakfast, walking him down to the curb where the taxi was waiting.

“It’ll be okay,” Suga told him again, shivering in the dark, he could hear the city starting to wake up. Daichi held his hand tightly.

“Come with me?” he asked not moving. Suga shivered squeezing his hand.

“Want me to?”

“Yes.”

The sun was coming up before Suga finally nodded off on the train. The easy sound of his deep breathing eased something in Daichi. He’d thought maybe he’d cry when he didn’t have to be trying to be brave in front of Suga, but with Suga asleep, the weight of him leaning against Daichi made Daichi’s whole body relax, like it had last night lying in his futon when he was sure he would not be able to sleep. His eyelids felt heavy. Suga’s hand was entangled with his. Kaori had said they’d admitted his dad to the hospital in the middle of the night, he’d been having chest pains, they weren’t sure what was happening, if it was a reaction to the medicine or the illness itself or something altogether. She’d told him point blank that she had not wanted to call him but his dad had begged her to. Thinking about it was enough to spike Daichi’s heart rate. If his dad wanted him to be there with him it had to be bad because he knew how far it was, knew he had work he was skipping today. His father who prized work ethic.

Both of the last two weeks his dad had asked to meet Suga. Daichi kept telling him soon. It wasn’t what he had hoped for when Suga met his family. But he hadn’t been able to tell Suga about his family at all, not about his dad being sick and not about Kaori and Shigeru. Not about the family shop, the battle ground between them all. His mother in the next town over who refused to have anything to do with him. Who he had cut out of his life just as easily as clipping an article out of the newspaper. Kaori who felt betrayed in ways he couldn’t atone for, Shigeru caught in the middle, Daichi who was lost. His father who continued to love them all no matter what. That all-encompassing love, the infinite forgiveness, made Daichi’s chest ache. Daichi willed him to be alright, that it was all a scare for nothing, no further complications. God, he didn’t know how many more complications he could take.

Daichi softly squeezed Suga’s hand, his heart clenching, the fear of losing his dad rising up in his chest again. Suga murmured something in his sleep, shifting and tucking his head closer on Daichi’s shoulder. Daichi breathed out all his fear and inhaled the scent of Suga’s shampoo, shutting his eyes. _Please let this all turn out okay._

Kaori met them in the lobby. Her hair was chin length like it’d been in the last picture Daichi had seen of her with the baby. In person she seemed older, lines in her face he didn’t recognize. Time did that. Time they couldn’t get back. The look on her face was hard to decipher, he felt her eyes rake over him and settle hard on Suga. Daichi had warned him that he and Kaori didn’t get along but hadn’t known how to specify what sort of situation they were walking into. The last time he’d talked to her, before the phone call last night, had been a shouting match on the lawn of his dad’s house four years ago. She’d thrown a potted plant at him. She’d called him a traitorous scumbag, told him he was dead to her. Compared to that Kaori, this slightly disappointed version of her in front of him seemed positively serene.

“Daichi,” she greeted him without enthusiasm.

“Kaori,” he answered her with a hopeful smile. She shrugged him off dismissively, eyes still on Suga. Her brows narrowed. “Kaori, this is my,” Daichi’s voice wavered, “my boyfriend, Sugawara Koushi. Koushi, this is my little sister, Kaori.”

“Nice to meet you,” Suga said to her, giving her a polite bow, glancing back at Daichi, unsure, when Kaori barely nodded back. She turned away from them leading the way to the bank of elevators. Daichi felt Suga’s eyes on him but he was afraid to meet their judgment.

“You have a younger brother too? Right?” Suga asked as they entered the elevator.

“Shigeru,” Daichi filled in.

“He’s upstairs,” Kaori said not looking at either of them.

“How’s Dad?” Daichi finally asked the question that had been a fist around his heart for the last five hours. Kaori didn’t answer him, looking blandly forward like he didn’t exist. Suga bumped his elbow, eyebrows pulled down. Daichi bumped him back, with a short shake of his head.

The elevator opened.

“I don’t want you here,” Kaori said turning her sharp brown eyes to Daichi when they stepped out. “You either,” she said to Suga. Suga bristled.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of stick you’ve got up your ass but…” he started.

“Suga,” Daichi said stopping him. Kaori’s lips twisted in disdain.

“You think you can just waltz in here with your creepy _boyfriend_ , like you belong here,” she addressed to Daichi.

“Kaori, can’t we just let it go?”

“Daichi, you’re the eldest, it was your responsibility,” she shot back her voice stepping up a volume. “You let Dad down.”

“He’s fine with it, he always has been,” Daichi said, “You play like it’s him I’m hurting, but it’s not.”

“You’re selfish, Daichi.”

“Sometimes you have to be a little selfish,” he answered her.

“You haven’t changed, you’re just the same as always. Unreliable,” she accused him. Daichi shook his head, not in any kind of mood to rehash the old argument. The shop he hadn’t wanted to take over, the accusation that his moving to Tokyo was a betrayal, that somehow he’d let his father down. “And now _this_ ,” Kaori added nodding to Suga. Suga winced. Daichi felt a white hot fire ignite in his chest.

“Look here, you can say whatever the fuck you want about me, but leave Suga out of it,” Daichi snapped at her. Kaori took a step back at the fire in his voice.

“Daichi, you don’t have to,” Suga said.

“No, I really do,” Daichi said. “Are you mad you felt like you couldn’t do whatever you wanted when I moved away? Maybe it makes you feel as trapped as it made me feel? Dad didn’t want you to take it if you didn’t want it, so I don’t know why you’re turning this into my fault.”

“I did want it!”

“Then what difference does it make that I’m in Tokyo?”

“Daichi?” a new voice turned Daichi’s head to find Shigeru, he’d been creeping toward them for a couple of minutes, looking shy and much older than Daichi remembered him. He had just been starting high school four years ago and now he’d grown into his height, taller than Daichi, sturdy arms, he’d make a mean middle blocker, Daichi thought. He wondered if his brother played volleyball. How many games he’d missed. If there was any way it could ever be made up for.

“Shigeru,” he answered and his brother stumbled toward him, arms open. Daichi caught him, holding him tight. “It’s been a long time,” Daichi mumbled.

“Is this Sugawara-san?” Shigeru asked then nodding to Suga, “Dad keeps talking about him.” Suga’s eyebrows shot up.

“Just Suga for short,” he recovered quickly, “You’re Daichi’s little brother?”

“Shigeru,” he introduced himself with a respectful bow. “You guys were making a lot of noise, Dad said you have to keep it down,” he said then. Kaori who had been fuming through this whole scene, huffed angrily.

“He shouldn’t have come,” she said.

“Kaori give it a rest,” Shigeru shook his head, “Now isn’t the time. Dai, Suga, come on,” he said waving them down the hall.

Suga had come to a rapid realization of several things very quickly, number one that Kaori was a bitch, number two that Daichi when he was mad was both scary and sexy at the same time, three he really liked Shigeru and four and possibly the most important, that Daichi’s dad had been talking about _him_.

“What did you tell him about me?” Suga whispered as Shigeru’s steps slowed. Daichi shrugged looking embarrassed. “Shigeru, what did he say about me?” Suga readdressed his question to the bashful boy who was very clearly Daichi’s brother. They had the same warm brown eyes, the same nose. Shigeru wore his hair a little longer but somehow Suga thought if he ran his fingers through it, it would feel just the same as Daichi’s. Shigeru looked from Daichi to Suga and back, not sure if or what he should answer to that.

“Daichi, is that you?” a voice called from the room and Shigeru was saved from having to answer. Daichi ducked in and the other two followed after.

Mr. Sawamura was sitting up in bed, dressed in a hospital gown, IV in his arm, glasses perched on his nose. He had greying hair but the same brown eyes as his sons. For a terrible moment Suga felt like he’d received a vision of the future, Daichi in a hospital bed hooked up to machines and a shudder ran through him. Mr. Sawamura folded Daichi into his arms.

“Maybe I was too hasty having Kaori call you,” he said. “Now they’re saying they think it’s nothing. Last night they had me convinced I was dying. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” he said ruffling Daichi’s hair. “It’s only been two days, you look older, are you getting enough sleep?”

“I literally say that to him all the time,” Suga said shaking his head.

“Ah, you finally brought him,” Mr. Sawamura said eyes finding Suga. Suga smiled in answer. “You must be Sugawara.”

“That’s me,” Suga said face warm, bowing respectfully.

“Obviously I hoped I wouldn’t be wearing a paper gown when we first met, so I hope you’ll forgive me,” Mr. Sawamura said. Suga smiled.

“It’s all good.”

“Daichi said you played volleyball, right?” Mr. Sawamura asked. “You have a friend who’s an athletic trainer for a club team in Tokyo?”

“Yeah, Iwaizumi Hajime. I was a setter in highschool. My team wasn’t very good but we gave it our best,” Suga admitted shooting Daichi a look. Daichi gave him a shy smile. Suga didn’t know what else he had told his dad. “Daichi said he was a starter.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You strongly _implied_ it,” Suga corrected him with a smirk.

“He was a natural,” Mr. Sawamura agreed, “Always told him he should’ve played in college but you know Daichi, once he makes up his mind about something there’s no talking him out of it.”

“Shigeru, did you play?” Suga asked turning to the brother who was still hanging back.

“He did. Still does, for the college team,” Mr. Sawamura said with a beam of pride. Shigeru flushed.

“Let me guess, middle blocker?” Suga asked.

“Wing spiker, actually,” said Shigeru reddening a little, “like Daichi.”

“Nice,” said Suga looking at Daichi. Pride was written all over his face.

“We almost made it to nationals last year of high school. I’ve never been to Tokyo.”

“You should come and visit,” Suga said eagerly. “Daichi’s got plenty of space. Right Daichi? All that _empty_ space.” Daichi grinned scratching his neck.

“He’s right, you should come.”

“Definitely! Maybe over winter break if that’s okay with you?” Shigeru turned an eager look to his brother. Daichi nodded.

“Maybe I should grab us something to eat from the cafeteria. You wanna come with?” Daichi asked when Shigeru had left. He’d had a morning class to make at the city college.

“I’ll stay up here, if that’s fine,” Suga offered. “Unless you’re tired?” he said looking to Mr. Sawamura. “We’ve been talking a lot, maybe you wanna rest?”

“I’m alright if you want to stay.”

“Don’t interrogate him,” Daichi warned his dad getting up. “Koushi, what do you want to eat?”

“Something warm. A flan. Any sustenance would be good though,” Suga groaned as his stomach growled.

“Noted,” Daichi said smiling. “I’ll be back.”

When he was gone, the awkwardness of it hit him, the creeping uncertainty of what to say, Daichi’s dad’s eyes were on him. As familiar as those eyes appeared, this man was not Daichi and Suga kicked himself for staying instead of going. He hadn’t really mentally prepared himself to meet Daichi’s dad. He didn’t know what Daichi had told him. He obviously knew they were dating and didn’t have any issues with that, so at least that was one thing he could stop worrying about. _Unless he thinks I’m not good enough for Daichi?_

“So Daichi told me you teach?”

“High school art, yeah.”

“You like that?”

“It’s got good days and bad days. But it’s mostly good. Limited puke to clean up. Sometimes I feel like I make a difference,” Suga said as nonchalantly as he could manage. Mr. Sawamura grinned at him.

“You take care of Dai, right? Make sure he isn’t staying at work too late.”

“I try my damndest,” Suga exhaled.

“He’s so happy when he talks about you. I think being in Tokyo on his own has been hard,” Mr. Sawamura said, “The last year especially since I got sick.” A lump rose in Suga’s throat at that, Daichi carrying that all on his own.

“Is that what Kaori is so mad about?” Suga asked the question that had been bothering him since he’d gotten here. “That Daichi moved to Tokyo?”

“Did Dai tell you about the shop?”

“He might have mentioned it in passing,” Suga said thinking for a minute, Daichi had told him very little about his family.

“It was supposed to be his but he had other ideas,” Mr. Sawamura said, “Kaori took over when I retired instead, but I don’t think she agreed with Daichi walking away. I told them all they needed to make their own choices. Dai made his and Kaori made hers. Shigeru was young when his mother and I separated, he’s been living with her in the next town over. It wasn’t really a peaceful separation and he’s always been caught between the two of us more than Daichi or Kaori.”

“Ah, that wouldn’t be easy,” Suga agreed. Mr. Sawamura nodded closing his eyes

“All I’ve ever wanted is for the three of them to be happy. Daichi especially has never shied from taking the hard path over the easy one. I worry about him in Tokyo all on his own.”

“If it’s any consolation I think he’s doing alright,” Suga said. “At least he seems like he’s doing alright.” Suga hadn’t thought of it in those terms before, that Daichi’s whole family was here in Miyagi and he was so far away in Tokyo. The guilt pressed in again for the times he’d groaned over Daichi leaving him alone on Saturday.

“He doesn’t eat too much take out?”

“Maybe sometimes, but that’s only because I eat too much take out,” Suga said grinning. Mr. Sawamura grinned back.

“Wanna see a picture of my grandbaby?”

“Kaori’s? Or does Daichi have kids I don’t know about?” Suga asked. Mr. Sawamura chuckled.

“Kaori’s,” he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and pulled up the photo of the baby with raven black hair and big brown eyes. “This is Ai-chan, there’s a couple of photos there.” Suga swiped through the pictures, the baby, the baby and Kaori who was actually smiling. She looked like a completely different person, her face lit up, her smile reminded Suga of Daichi’s. There was Shigeru, eyes full, holding the baby. One of Daichi’s dad with her. None of Daichi. Suga’s stomach twisted in knots.

Suga startled when the door opened to reveal Daichi with food.

“They didn’t have anything hot,” Daichi apologized offering Suga the sandwich. “And no flan.”

“A crime,” Suga said somberly accepting the sandwich, “You’re letting me down Daichi. I was counting on that flan.” Daichi grinned dropping down into the chair next to him.

“What’s on the phone?” he asked as Suga offered it back to Mr. Sawamura.

“Ai-chan,” his dad answered with a big smile. Suga watched the look on Daichi’s face, it was something painful.

“He didn’t ask too many questions, right?” Daichi asked Suga.

“Don’t worry, I’ll never break,” Suga promised with a grin.

“A little interrogation never hurt,” Daichi’s dad added.

“Didn’t even threaten to kill me if I hurt you, so pretty good as far as meeting the parents go in my book.”

“I forgot about that,” Daichi’s dad said sternly, “Sugawara-san if you ever so much as make Daichi cry…”

“You two are embarrassing,” Daichi told them shaking his head and taking a bite of the sandwich.

“Sawamura-san, just checking in to see how you’re feeling… ah Daichi!” A nurse with a shaved head carrying a clipboard had poked his head in. Suga turned to see Daichi’s face brighten.

“Tanaka!”

“It feels wrong seeing you here on a Monday. It is Monday right?”

“Far as I know. Dad, do you need anything?”

“I’m alright. Thanks Ryuu-kun.”

The man with the shaved head nodded turning back to Daichi and seeming to notice for the first time, Suga beside him.

“No way. You actually did it?”

“Did what?”

“Brought him. You’re Sugawara-san right? The Suga that Daichi is always talking about?”

Suga gave Daichi a look, smile growing on his face.

“I’m sorry for whatever he’s told you.”

“It’s all good things,” Tanaka assured him beaming. “I’m Tanaka Ryunosuke. I went to high school with Daichi.”

“He was on the volleyball team.”

“Top four in the prefecture right? Don’t tell me you were a starter too?” Suga said leaning forward.

Tanaka chuckled looking embarrassed.

“What’d you play? I was a setter.”

“Ace.”

“Of course you were,” Suga groaned.

“Say, I’ve got to make my rounds but would you two want to grab a beer later? My shift’s over at six.”

“Sounds good to me. Daichi?”

Daichi looked to his dad.

“What’re you looking at me for, Dai? Go if you want, they’re not letting me out of here today anyway, unless Ryuu-kun knows something I don’t.”

“Overnight for observation,” Tanaka confirmed and Daichi nodded.

“It’s a plan then.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then,” he said with a grin, “Suga, I’ve got some good stories for you later.” Suga saluted him and he ducked out of the room. Daichi got up to follow him.

“I’ll be right back.”

“How is he really?” Daichi asked in the hall when they’d moved far enough down there was no chance of being overheard.

“Seems in good spirits to me. They said he was in a lot of pain last night though. Your sister was a wreck over it,” Tanaka said. The fears Daichi had been trying to convince himself were unfounded were rising back up, he couldn’t forget the way that Kaori’s voice had sounded over the phone last night.

“But he’s okay? They think he’s okay?”

“I think so Daichi. I mean chest pain is obviously not good, but it wasn’t a heart attack. You could ask Dr. Washijo if you want to know more. I don’t know all the details.” Tanka put his hand on Daichi’s shoulder and Daichi clenched his teeth at the wave of emotion rising in his chest.

“You doing okay, Dai?”

“I’m alright.”

“I still can’t believe you actually brought Suga-san,” Tanaka said patting Daichi on the back. “I would never have had the balls to do that knowing Kaori was here.”

“What? She doesn’t make the best first impression?”

“What’d Suga-san think?”

“He told her he thought she had a stick up her ass,” Daichi said smiling. Tanaka guffawed.

“Wish I could’ve been there. I like him already.”

Kaori was by the door to their dad’s room drinking a coffee when Daichi came back. He’d figured she’d gone already but it was clear she hadn’t left. She eyed him wearily and Daichi could see the dark circles beneath her eyes, her shoulders hunched up. Daichi stopped and sighed running a hand through his hair.

“You can go home now, you know? If you want? Get some sleep.”

She sipped her coffee and then looked up at him. He could see the falter in her face, the angry mask cracked for a moment.

“Daichi…” her brows were still lowered, she met his eyes and looked away.

“I’ll call you if anything changes,” he told her. “I’m staying over tonight. I’ll be here tomorrow too if you need anything.”

“I don’t need anything,” she told him coldly, face back in place, but her hands holding the coffee were trembling.

“It’s okay if you do. I’m here if you need me, Kaori.”

“But you’re not _here._ ”

“But I’m not on the other side of the world either.”

She bit her lip looking up at him again, tears swimming in her eyes. Daichi moved to put his arms around her. She didn’t push him away and he held her for a moment, her head resting against his shoulder.

“I’m not forgiving you,” she choked when he let her go.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“…And then the vice principal’s toupee landed right on his head. I nearly died,” Tanaka wheezed. Daichi was shaking his head. They were seated at a table of the small family restaurant that his sister worked at. She’d been around twice already to refill their beers, winking and giving Tanaka shit. Grinning Suga elbowed Daichi.

“And then there was that time at training camp. All the second years were in the bath and me and this other guy stole all their clothes. Then there’s Daichi, hell bent, fully nude, yelling at us.”

“Fully nude?” Suga sputtered.

“Fully nude,” Tanaka agreed. “The other guy peed himself he was so scared. I’m not scared of Daichi so it was just hilarious. We had to talk the kid out of quitting. Daichi got banned from club for two weeks.”

“Why did I get banned again? I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“It’s an image I can never unsee,” Tanaka said nodding sagely while Suga laughed.

“How were you guys top four in the prefecture again? When did you even practice?”

“Tanaka definitely made that difficult. The kouhai every upperclassman dreads. Nothing but trouble.”

“I wasn’t that bad,” Tanaka argued still grinning. “Comparatively.”

“Come on tell me more embarrassing stories about Daichi.”

“Haven’t you heard enough?” Daichi asked

“Never enough.”

“Nah, that’s about as embarrassing as it gets. Why don’t you tell me some?”

“How about no more embarrassing stories at all?” suggested Daichi.

“Hmm…” Suga thought for a minute. Tanaka leaning forward onto their table. “You’re right, Daichi doesn’t do a lot of embarrassing stuff.”

“Guys, I’m right here.”

“The first time he kissed me was surrounded by dumpsters.”

“That’s not embarrassing, that’s _romantic,_ ” cooed Tanaka elbowing Daichi. “I never would’ve guessed that this guy had a romantic bone in his body.”

“ _And_ he asked me to marry him on our first date. That’s kinda embarrassing.”

“For real Daichi?”

“There’s _context_! Jeez Suga.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Suga laughed.

They didn’t stay out late. Tanaka had to work first thing in the morning. They walked the short blocks to Daichi’s dad’s house. The wind whistling through the bare branches of the trees, dead leaves rattling along the sidewalk. Somehow it felt colder here than it did in Tokyo. Suga was shivering while Daichi unlocked the front door.

“It was fun meeting Tanaka,” he said once they were finally in out of the cold, rubbing his hands together while Daichi turned on the lights.

“He’s a good guy,” Daichi agreed shedding his coat.

“Were you really fully nude? I need to know. For science reasons.”

“Much as it pains me, I was really fully nude.”

Suga giggled kicking off his shoes. He hesitated at the photos on the wall in the entryway, pictures of Daichi and Kaori and small Shigeru. A graduation picture of Shigeru grinning with his diploma. A faded photo of a gardening shop, a very young Mr. Sawamura standing out front, tiny dark haired boy on his hip who could only be Daichi. Suga’s heart pinched. Down the hall he could hear Daichi rustling through a kitchen cupboard, the ceramic sound of mugs on the counter top.

“Hey Daichi, I’ve got a question,” Suga said following the sounds into the kitchen.

“Okay, shoot.”

“Why’d you move away?”

“Huh?”

“To Tokyo? Your friends and family are here,” Suga said carefully measuring his words. Daichi looked at him, smiling a little.

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“Not if what you’re going to tell me is serious. A joke yes, I would laugh.”

Daichi gave him a lopsided grin.

“You wanna take your coat off?”

“You moved to Tokyo to undress me?”

“No dumbass, I mean…”

“So maybe?”

“Take off your coat, stay awhile.”

“I’m good, I’m freezing. All I’m wearing is a t-shirt underneath.”

“There’s a sweatshirt in here I think,” Daichi said digging through his bag he’d dumped on the floor.

“Okay,” Suga said once he’d swapped his winter coat for Daichi’s big sweatshirt. “Tell me now. No wait, is that a kotatsu?”

“It is,” Daichi said, digging through the cupboards again for snacks. Suga slid underneath it, turning it on.

“Okay, so tell me.”

“For the job.”

“As a pencil pusher?” Suga asked lying down on his stomach and resting his head on his folded arms, warmth leeching into his legs.

“You want some tea?”

“Yes, but for real?”

“I work for a publishing company right? So to me it was like an inside track.”

“Ooh, to get published? Why would I laugh at you for that? That’s smart, Daichi,” Suga said grinning up at him.

“Except that was three years ago, and I’m still pushing pencils.”

“It’s okay, stuff takes time,” Suga said. “You know I taught math for a whole year before I got into the art department.”

“Why does that sound awful?”

“Because it was,” Suga said laughing, “I don’t think I taught those kids anything.”

Daichi set a mug of tea down in front of Suga and slid under the kotatsu next to him.

“Move your legs you’re taking up the whole space.”

“No fair, I was here first,” Suga said sitting up and making space for Daichi. Daichi took a sip of the tea and sighed contentedly closing his eyes and propping his chin up on his palms.

“Tired?”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Tell me about it,” Suga’s eyes traced the walls of the living space. He tried to imagine younger Daichi here, eating breakfast before school, working on homework, Kaori and Shigeru too. The mother Daichi never talked about. Daichi’s parents had been separated since Daichi had gotten out of high school. It was all sparsely decorated which made some sort of strange sense to him after seeing Daichi’s apartment. The house had a creeping sense of a bachelor pad.

“Suga, I’m going to put in for it,” Daichi said after a while.

“Put in for?” Suga didn’t follow.

“The job, in the editing department.”

“Oh shit, you decided?”

“Just now,” Daichi said giving him a lazy smile.

“Any special reason why?”

“It’d be nice to have a house. Wouldn’t you like a house?”

“Would _I_ like a house? What does that have to do with the editing department?”

Daichi shrugged, covering a yawn.

“It’s been a long day, if we’re going back in the morning you’d better get some sleep,” Suga suggested.

“I’m going to stay another couple of days,” Daichi said then. Suga’s heart dropped a little but he nodded, knowing it made sense, knowing he would’ve done the same thing but still a little sad at the thought of taking the train back to Tokyo alone.

“Still,” Suga said bumping his knee. “You should get some sleep.”

“Fine, fine,” groaned Daichi letting Suga push him up to his feet. They shuffled toward what had been Daichi’s bedroom. It was partway teenage bedroom, partway storage, partway office. Suga cleared a space on the floor and Daichi rolled out the futon.

“There’s another one in the other room. I’ll grab it,” he said.

“We both fit on yours back home,” Suga said wiggling his eyebrows, “You don’t wanna cuddle?”

“Don’t test me tonight, Suga,” Daichi said with a grin.

“Ooh spicy, please elaborate.”

Daichi came back with the second futon he spread out beside the first.

They crawled in under the comforter. Suga slid up next to Daichi, feeling the heat radiating off him. Daichi yawned again.

“Told you, we’d fit on one.”

“I’m not the one who spreads out like a starfish in the middle of the night,” Daichi told him, “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

“Will I?” Suga asked, pressing his lips to Daichi’s jaw.

“Suga, would you like a house?” Daichi asked again. Suga leaned back exhaling into the dark.

“Yeah, I would. Someday. A dog. A garden. A studio with big windows. On a quiet street.” Suga suddenly found the words spilling out, Daichi’s hand found his in the dark, thumb rubbing over the top of his knuckles. “What about you?”

“All that sounds nice.”

“No you can’t just piggyback on my dreams,” Suga said jabbing Daichi in the ribs. “Tell me what you want.” 

“Okay but I’m stealing the dog. And maybe a big kitchen with a tree outside the window. A huge book shelf. A decent bath. Someone to come home to,” Daichi said, Suga squeezed his hand.

“So you’re a dog thief now?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Daichi said, Suga could hear his smile. He shut his eyes snuggling closer.

“I’ll allow it.”

“Suga, come on, time to get up.”

Suga rolled over.

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled.

“Koushi, you’re going to miss the train,” Daichi said shaking his shoulder a little more aggressively. Groaning Suga sat up rubbing his eyes. It was early. It was disgustingly early. “Koushi.” Daichi was pressing the clean shirt into his hands. It was one of Daichi’s but Suga didn’t register that until much later. Suga changed and tugged on his jeans and let Daichi drag him out to where his dad’s car was sitting in the driveway. Daichi drove them to the station. When at last Daichi put the car into park, Suga was finally awake enough to know he didn’t want to leave.

“I could stay,” he told Daichi.

“You don’t need to miss another day of work for me.”

“I don’t want to go back alone.”

“There aren’t any transfers on the way back. Tokyo’s the last stop,” Daichi told him as if that’s what he’d meant. Suga shook his head.

“No, I don’t want to go back without you,” he said again. Daichi looked surprised for a moment.

“I’ll be back on Thursday.”

“It doesn’t matter, I still don’t want to,” Suga said.

“What about the gremlins? They need you too,” Daichi told him. Suga’s face faltered.

“Don’t guilt trip me with the artistic future of Japan.”

“If I don’t, who will? Think of the children, Suga,” Daichi said prodding him. “You’re going to miss the train. The next one isn’t for another hour and a half.”

“What’s an hour and a half? We can get breakfast.”

“Suga,” Daichi said seriously.

“Don’t use your dad voice on me.”

“Sugawara.”

“I really don’t like that, just so you know,” Suga said opening the door and giving Daichi a rueful glare. “I miss you already.”

“Go catch that train.”

“Daichi,” Suga stopped now, it was fluttering against his ribs. Daichi looked worried at the tone of his voice.

“What is it?”

“I…ah, never mind,” Suga said shaking his head, cheeks warm.

“What is it?”

“I uh… I can tell you later. It’s not important.”

“I’ll call you,” Daichi promised.

“You better,” Suga warned him and shut the door. Daichi rolled down the window as he started to walk away.

“Koushi?”

Suga looked back.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Daichi called. Suga grinned.

When Suga got on the train his hands itched, when he pulled out his sketchpad, the shapes were right this time, and he wished he had something to color it with, he wished he were home already, that Daichi would be waiting for him in a big kitchen with a tree outside the window, a dog at the door, the studio window letting in a big patch of golden light. Outside that window it was spring, everything in bloom. Suga’s heart was the open window, the green things growing, a hundred hopes, things he had been pruning back for so long he forgot what they looked like when he let them be. There was always the chance none of this would turn out, but finally he was willing to take that risk.


	7. Together

Suga was late to school, missing the first two periods. Over lunch, he cracked open the sketchbook, filling in the colors as his imagined them with pencil, but what he was really itching for was paint.

“Join us at practice today?” the coach called as they cleared the halls after class was over.

“Not today,” Suga apologized. He had never rushed out of the school so fast. At home he shed his school clothes, into an old t-shirt and then he was elbow deep in the dark blue canvas Daichi had painted for him. Paint on his hands and wrists. Later he heard his phone ringing from the pile of school clothes. He almost ignored it until he remembered Daichi’s promise to call. Wiping off his hands on a towel he fumbled to pull it out, a big orange finger print swiping over the screen to answer the call.

“Koushi?” His insides warmed at the sound of Daichi’s voice, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Hey Daichi. How’s your dad doing?”

“Better today. He was mad you left.”

Suga laughed sitting back on the edge of his bed, eyes on the painting. He could see from here where the yellow needed to go, fingers buzzing.

“I hope you apologized for me.”

“I told him I made you leave.”

“Did he disown you?”

“He was thinking about it. He really likes you.”

“I like him too. Will you let me go with you some Saturdays?” Suga asked, he’d been thinking about it all afternoon. If Daichi wanted him.

“Sure, I wouldn’t say no to that.”

“I’ll make your sister love me, and we can practice volleyball with Shigeru.”

“Suga, you don’t have to.”

“I want to though. You don’t have to take me every week, but Saturdays around here are boring anyway without you,” Suga said smiling, switching hands holding the phone reaching for his paint brush and the yellow.

“What’d I do to deserve you?”

“Fell asleep on that train, if you hadn’t done that, I’d never have had the courage to talk to you,” Suga said, heart warm, pressing the brush to the canvas. The feeling hit him again but he couldn’t say it over the phone.

“Guess there’s a plus side to falling asleep on public transit?” Daichi laughed, “I don’t believe that by the way. You’ve got more guts than you give yourself credit for.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“It was some nerve to buy me dinner at the conbini the next night.”

“Ah yes, the conbini three course,” Suga giggled.

“If I’d had the guts to sit down next to you on the train I’m sure you would’ve said something.”

“Maybe. You always looked so serious though. You know the first time I saw you smile I knew I was in trouble.”

“When was that?”

“I don’t know. You got something on your phone, smiling into the screen like you weren’t crammed into that rush hour train like a sardine,” Suga said remembering the afternoon. He’d had a rough day at work, squished between two salary men on the train and sweating because it was August and he’d looked up to see Daichi across the way in a similar situation, smiling down into his phone.

“You want to hear when I knew?”

“When I dragged you off that train at a quarter to midnight instead of letting you ride to the end of the line?”

“Yes but before that,” Daichi said, Suga could hear him smiling through the phone.

“Do you remember that old lady who used to get on at the one stop?”

“No?”

“She always had that quilted jacket with the flowers and the straw hat? Every time she was at the station you’d hop off and help her on.”

“Oh, I forgot about that. I haven’t seen her for a long time,” Suga said.

“That’s when I knew.”

“So if you’d never seen that it wouldn’t have mattered if I’d pulled you off the train or not?”

“No, it still would’ve mattered,” Daichi said, “It just mattered more.”

“I’m sure you would’ve helped her on too,” Suga said.

“Maybe,” Daichi said.

“Wonder where she is now? I hope she’s doing okay.”

“She’d always hold onto you if there wasn’t a place to sit until we got to her stop.”

“She called me Sweet Pea.”

“She did not, don’t lie to me.”

“I’m dead serious, Daichi,” Suga said laughing, setting down the paint brush and stepping back to look.

“You want ramen for dinner?” Asahi stuck his head into Suga’s room.

“Is that Asahi?” Daichi asked over the phone, “Say yes to the ramen.”

“Daichi says yes,” Suga answered Asahi who grinned at him. Asahi took another step into the room to look at the painting. “Nope, don’t look yet,” Suga said blocking him and pushing him out of the room.

“Are you painting?” Daichi asked.

“Finally,” Suga answered.

“You know I’m proud of you right?”

Daichi turned from the dishes to where his dad was in the recliner, half asleep.

“Huh?”

“I’m proud of you, Dai. Out there in Tokyo. Kaori says all sorts of things she doesn’t mean. I just wanted to make sure you knew.”

“I know,” Daichi agreed.

“She’ll come around eventually. You just need to give it time.”

“You’ll be okay right?”

“You don’t need to come up on Saturday this week,” his dad said, eyelids heavy. “Stay in Tokyo with Sugawara, don’t worry about me for once.”

“I’ll come back on Saturday, Suga will understand.”

“No, I insist, you’ve done enough. Stay home for once, it’s just one Saturday.”

Daichi’s heart clenched because if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that every time could be the last time, the next week wasn’t guaranteed.

“It’s not just a Saturday.”

“Have some faith in your old man,” his dad said opening his eyes, “I won’t croak on you yet.”

“You better not,” Daichi said.

“Better hurry or you’ll miss the train.”

“Remember that new prescription, it’s one in the morning and one at night.”

“I know, I know, Dai.”

“You’ll call if something comes up right? Or call Kaori, since she’s right here.”

“Dai.”

“You’ve got to take care of yourself.”

“Dai, don’t worry about it so much.”

“Someone’s got to worry about you. Dad…” Daichi felt the lump in his throat. His dad was reaching out a hand to him, he took it, the older man’s hand rough and calloused. The hands that had shown him how to catch a perfect receive, shown him how to shave, how to cut an onion.

“Daichi, I’ll be okay. Get on home now.”

“Okay,” Daichi gulped down the tears prickling in his eyes. His dad squeezed his hand and let him go.

“Tell Sugawara not to be a stranger, he’s always welcome to come with you.”

“He said he wanted to come back.”

“He seems like a good guy, Daichi.”

“He is. He really is,” Daichi fumbled with the zipper on his jacket, wishing Tokyo wasn’t so far. Wishing there weren’t so many kilometers between them. Between his dad and him, and right now between him and Suga.

\---

The next two weeks went by fast. Before Suga knew it he was in Oikawa’s gallery again hanging another show. Midnight crept up on them, Oikawa still scratching his head over the placement. The whole gallery smelled like coffee, the third pot only half gone. Suga’s brain felt like mush and on top of it he had to be back to school in the morning. He sat against the gallery wall watching Oikawa move the small set of landscapes again.

“They contrast just about right with that abstract stuff over there, don’t you think?” he asked not really wanting an answer from Suga. Suga pressed his forehead to his knees. Iwaizumi had helped with the big pieces but had long since left them. Outside it was bitter cold, December finally upon them, the wind whistling through the door jam. Suga’s phone buzzed and wearily he pulled it out.

**From Daichi:**

U still at it?

**To Daichi:**

Plz put me out of my misery

**From Daichi:**

I believe in u

“I don’t know that these ones should be over here,” Oikawa said moving on to the conceptual pieces they had agreed three hours ago belonged in that particular corner and not in any other space. Suga groaned.

“Tooru, they’re fine, we’ve been over this four times, maybe five.”

“Kouchan, I don’t think you’re really considering the implications.”

“Tooru, I can’t keep my eyes open.”

“Want some more coffee? I’ll put a fresh pot on.”

“I’ve got to go home.”

“Don’t go, it’s so cold and miserable. You’ve already missed the last train.”

“I have work in the morning, I should’ve left an hour ago.”

“Fine, go, leave me here all alone.”

“You should go too. Hajime is probably waiting up for you, he’s gonna be grumpy.”

“Iwachan is always grumpy. It’s his special talent,” Oikawa said heading for the coffee pot. Suga regretted ever having offered to help hang this show. He should’ve known better. Instead of putting in new grounds, Oikawa dumped the coffee and flipped the power switch off.

“Alright Kouchan, you win, we’re calling it,” Oikawa sighed reaching for his heavy coat. Relief sank into Suga’s bones that this wasn’t a battle he was going to have to fight tonight. He staggered to his feet, shrugging own coat on, wrapping his scarf around his neck.

“I hate December, it’s the worst,” Oikawa complained as he turned off the lights in the gallery. “All this cold and my fucking knee…” He paused at the last switch by the door, they looked back at the art waiting on the walls behind them, halfway lit.

“It doesn’t look half bad does it?” Oikawa asked. Suga nodded.

“I’m almost excited to let people in here to see it,” Suga admitted.

“Yours’ are something else this time around, Koushi,” Oikawa said then, giving him a look. Suga flushed.

“They’re just okay.”

“Don’t play it down, they’re fucking great, we both know it,” Oikawa said elbowing him.

“I don’t know.”

“Well I do and they are. You shouldn’t be so humble.”

Out on the street Suga breathed out, watching his breath plume up in the cold night air. Oikawa shuddered beside him and they started their walk. He was stiff, limping a little.

“Is it bothering you?” Suga asked. Oikawa shrugged.

“It always bothers me. But it’s worse in the cold.”

“It really sucks.”

“It really does,” Oikawa agreed with a sigh.

Suga’s brain was a blur at school the next day. The show opening was that night. There was going to be a reception. Daichi was coming and Asahi and maybe Yaku and all he could think about was the noise and Oikawa’s threat to have everyone give a short talk. Nothing made his blood run colder than that, getting up to talk about his art in front of a bunch of strangers. He was spacing off into this whirling torrent of anxiety and uncertainty when his phone buzzed inside the drawer of his desk. Glancing up, all the kids were still working on their pieces. They were doing still life drawings of plastic fruit and silk flowers. Half of the class was absorbed in conversation and neglecting their drawings as usual. Suga chanced a look at his phone.

**From Daichi:**

I got the job

Suga’s heart jumped, and he slapped his hand down on the desk and knocked his mug over. It dumped coffee all over the floor, splashing onto his pants as he jumped to his feet.

“Oh shit!” All the students were looking up, gone silent.

“Sugawara-sensei?”

“I mean, uh, you didn’t hear that,” Suga said trying to smother his grin. “Who’s got the paper towels?”

Asahi was the one who opened the door, in his socks, hair a mess he was in the process of trying to fix.

“Suga!” he called back into the apartment. “Come in,” he said with a grin to Daichi letting him in.

“Is this alright?” Daichi asked gesturing to his button down shirt and blazer. “I’ve never been to one of these.”

“Looks good to me,” Asahi said about to turn back to what he was doing but he paused. “Sawamura,” he said gesturing Daichi to come closer and undid the top two buttons. “Better,” he said with a smile. Daichi flushed. “Suga! Your _hot date_ is waiting!” Asahi called again.

“Hang on! Hang on!” Suga called back finally. “Daichi stay out there, I’m not dressed.”

“Sounds good to me,” Daichi called back.

“There’s no time for that,” Suga stuck his head out with a cheeky grin, buttoning up his shirt. He paused when he saw Daichi and sucked in a breath.

“Too much?”

“Nope, just right,” Suga hissed fumbling with his shirt, face reddening. “You’re killing me with those top two buttons.”

“You’re welcome,” Asahi said pulling on his coat, “Hurry up Suga, we’re going to be late to your show.”

“It’s not just my show,” Suga said shirt still only half way buttoned, hurrying for the door.

“Socks?” Daichi asked him.

“Shit, socks,” Suga turned around and ran back to his room. Asahi chuckled, slipping his shoes on.

“Is he nervous?” Daichi asked.

“How can you tell?” Asahi rejoined. Suga came back, wearing socks now, fumbling again with his shirt, he’d missed one of the buttons, the shirt sitting lopsided.

“Hold on,” Daichi stopped him and rebuttoned it right. He put his hands on Suga’s shoulders. “Deep breath,” he commanded him and dutifully Suga sucked it in. “What are you so nervous about? I thought this was just a group show, a bunch of teachers like you?”

“It is.”

“And Oikawa?”

“Yeah, Tooru will be there,” Suga said as Daichi handed him his coat. He jammed his foot into his shoe and then looked around for its partner. “I’m missing a shoe.”

“You shouldn’t just kick them off wherever, Suga,” Asahi said, he had the door open, waiting on the threshold leaning against the doorframe in acceptance that they were going to be late, while Suga hunted around for his other shoe.

“Daichi, I can’t do this,” Suga said then looking frantically up at Daichi.

“It’ll be fine, Koushi.”

“No it won’t, I only have one shoe! I can’t go out like this! I…!”

Daichi pulled the shoe out from beneath the pile of Suga’s school stuff handing it to him.

“What if…?”

“No what ifs, I got all dressed up so we’re going, that’s it,” Daichi said.

“It’d be nice to stay in though.”

“Suga,” Asahi’s voice was a warning.

“Don’t use your ace voice on me,” Suga said with a shudder.

“It’ll be fine,” Daichi told him as he pulled on his other shoe. “Come on.”

The gallery was lit up, light spilling out of its big front windows into the cold night. Inside Daichi could see the crowd. Asahi led the way inside, Suga trailing behind Daichi reluctantly. The warmth inside was a relief from the biting wind. Suga was still hanging behind him. Daichi saw Kenji before Suga did, blood running cold. The man was talking to Oikawa who looked like he’d rather be drinking battery acid. Daichi turned around to face Suga, blocking his view. Suga’s eyebrows leapt up in panic.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Kenji,” Daichi said through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” Suga exhaled, his face falling, but then he lifted his eyes back to Daichi’s, the tension easing from his shoulders. He leaned forward brushing their lips for a moment. Daichi’s heart stuttered. Suga ran a hand through his hair taking a deep breath. “Now the worst thing has happened, the rest of it will be fine,” Suga decided with a smile.

“He’s talking to Oikawa,” Daichi said as Suga took his hand.

“Good, Tooru will tell him to fuck off,” Suga said turning Daichi back around to join the people in the gallery. They headed the opposite direction of Oikawa. Asahi had found Iwaizumi, they were talking with Yaku near the table with complimentary wine.

“What’s that shit stain doing here?” Iwaizumi asked as Suga and Daichi joined them, tilting his head toward where Oikawa was now animatedly gesturing Kenji toward the door.

“Beats me,” Yaku said sipping his glass of wine. “Suga, you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Suga said squeezing Daichi’s hand. “Someone tell me, when Tooru’s gotten rid of him so I can kiss him in gratitude.”

“Keep your lips to yourself, Koushi.”

“Just for you, Hajime.”

“There he goes. Tooru’s smile looks like he’s holding broken glass in his mouth,” Yaku said. Daichi looked now, watching Oikawa wave as Kenji left through the door. He let out a sigh of relief. Oikawa wove through the crowd to join them, taking Iwaizumi’s wine and downing the remainder without a word.

“Tooru, Hajime told me I could not kiss you for what you just did.”

“Rude, Iwa-chan,” said Oikawa, his face returning to normal. “Anything for my Kouchan.” Suga offered him his glass of wine. Oikawa accepted it and took a sip. “Now that the pestilence is gone, you’re all free to peruse this collection of fine art, and Suga’s finger paintings.” They dispersed into the crowd, Daichi hanging onto Suga’s hand as they walked. There were sculptures and charcoal drawings, photographs and paintings. Then they were standing in front of Oikawa’s portraits.

“He didn’t change the colors at all, that prick, pretending he didn’t like them,” Suga muttered to himself.

“How did he even do those?”

“Patience of a saint,” Suga said, “Or obsessive. Possibly both. Meticulous hard work. Hajime has to kick him out of the studio some nights or he’d never sleep.”

“Nothing wrong with dedication,” Daichi said with a grin at Suga. Suga groaned.

“Only you would appreciate that kind of dedication, leaving work in the middle of the night,” he said pinching Daichi’s arm with a smirk.

“Where are your paintings?”

Suga flushed a little.

“Who cares about those? Look at all this other nice stuff.”

“I care about those,” Daichi said stubbornly, Suga hadn’t shown him the finished products. “Show me where they’re at or I’ll just have to leave you here and go find them myself.”

“Nooo,” Suga complained and then pulled Daichi away from Oikawa’s paintings, weaving through the crowd to the back wall. There were people here too, packed in tighter and Daichi could barely see what they were looking at. At first Daichi was pretty sure that Suga was just trying to distract him but then he caught a glimpse of what was on the wall, one of the first paintings that had sat on Suga’s desk forever.

“Oh,” was all he could say, wading into the crowd to get closer, Suga following along behind.

Then he could see them all. The blues and golds, crisscrossing shapes, darks and lights. Suga’s hand still in his, he could only squeeze it and give Suga a look of disbelief. Looking back trying to find the words, moisture pricking his eyes because it was all there, the edges and soft looks, the subway and the arcade, dinner in Suga’s kitchen, falling asleep on the couch together. Not explicitly, but he could feel the emotional intensity. Wondering for a moment if maybe he was imagining all this in what were clearly meant to be abstract paintings. He looked to Suga who was still staring at the paintings, biting his lip like he had doubts.

“They’re for you,” Suga said finally, voice quiet, nearly lost in the chatter of the crowd, meeting Daichi’s eyes.

“F…for me?”

“Yeah,” Suga said blushing. “Can you see the metro lines?” Daichi’s heart thumped because he could see them, he had been afraid to read what was clearly there. He leaned to press his mouth to Suga’s. Suga slid his arms around Daichi, squeezing him so tight that Daichi thought his ribs might crack.

“Tell me more,” he said breathlessly when Suga finally let him go. They were in the very front now, and Suga explained them, pointing out what he’d been thinking when he’d painted, the colors.

“We’re going to put that one in your living room,” Suga said pointing to the third one. It was already marked as not for sale. Daichi laughed.

“Are you my interior decorator now?”

“I’ve told you a hundred times your apartment is a crime against humanity,” Suga said grinning, “I’m just trying to clear your good name.”

“Come on, just one drink,” Suga said pulling Daichi toward the bar. The wind was still biting and the sky had clouded over.

“Suga, let’s just go home,” Daichi complained.

“We gotta celebrate,” Suga insisted dragging him inside anyway. Suga collected beers from the bar, pushing Daichi toward a booth in the back.

“Can’t we just sit at the bar? What’s gotten into you? I…” Daichi’s voice fell off to see Ennoshita and Michimiya and several of his other buddies from work beaming at him from the booth.

“Congratulations Sawamura!” called Michimiya raising her glass. Daichi turned to Suga who was beaming, pushing the beer into his hands.

“We’re all proud of you,” Suga said. “Drink up, this round’s on me,” he called to rowdy cheers from the group.

Snowflakes laced the air, falling slow in the streetlamps. Daichi slid his hand into Suga’s. Suga looked over at him, the snowflakes sparkling on Daichi’s dark hair.

“Was that a good surprise?”

“The best,” Daichi agreed. “You shouldn’t have rushed us out of your show for it though.”

“I wasn’t rushing,” Suga scoffed. “We looked at all the work, drank a glass of wine, humored Tooru’s ego, what else was there to do? I don’t feel cheated at all. We stayed a whole lot longer than I thought we would anyway. I had to text Ennoshita five different times that we were just about to leave, just another ten minutes.” Daichi laughed.

“He probably loved that.”

“Definitely. He had a few choice words for what he thought of me,” Suga agreed. He shivered falling closer into step with Daichi. “Shoulda brought a scarf.”

“Here, take mine,” Daichi said tugging his off and offering it to Suga. Suga wrapped it around his neck ducking his nose into it, breathing in the smell of Daichi, hiding a smile there.

“Kaori sent me something today,” Daichi told him then.

“Ooh, a restraining order?”

“No, look,” Daichi pulled out his phone and showing it to Suga. It was a photo of Daichi’s dad and the dark haired baby.

“Ai-chan’s getting so big,” Suga said smiling. “Think we’ll get to meet her tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” Daichi said with a small smile, “It’s a definite possibility.”

“How much do you want to bet she starts crying when you get to hold her?”

“You think so?”

Suga squinted at Daichi considering.

“Maybe she’ll think you’re Shigeru and not a stranger. He gets to see her more often right?”

“Shigeru and I don’t look that much alike.”

“Maybe enough to confuse a baby though,” Suga said. “I bet she won’t cry when I hold her though, babies love me.”

“Weird flex but okay.”

“You can’t say that. I did not tell you about the gremlins saying that so that you could say it to me,” Suga said punching Daichi in the ribs, Daichi laughed, and Suga punched him again gentler.

“Stop it, I’ll get you back,” Daichi laughed trying to wrap his arms around Suga, tickling his sides. Suga slapped at him but Daichi had him trapped. Suga laughed helplessly.

“Daichi. Daichi stop. Daichi, please,” he wheezed, “I’m gonna pee myself, stoppp.” Daichi finally let him go, the two of them panting in the dark, grinning at each other.

“We’re almost to the station right?”

“Just about, we’ve still got some time though right?” Suga asked.

Daichi pulled out his phone, and showed Suga the time.

“Shit, Daichi,” Suga said breaking into a jog dragging Daichi after him toward the blue glow of the metro station down the street. They ran down the stairs. Suga got through the turnstile first, Daichi fumbling with his pass.

“Daichi, I can hear it. Hurry up!”

“Dammit,” Daichi growled running toward him, Suga caught his hand dragging him down the last set of steps to the platform where the train had just arrived, the chime sounding, doors opening.

“Come on, come on,” Suga was laughing, “It’s a fucking long way to walk. Daichi, hurry up.”

Then they were into the car dropping down into the seats panting, Suga still laughing.

“We made it.”

“We did,” Daichi was grinning. “I told you how great the show was right? You’re my favorite painter. I told Oikawa that and I was sure he was going to have a fit.”

“You’re biased.”

“Maybe,” Daichi leaned closer their shoulders bumping. Suga turned to him heat spreading across his face. He fought the urge to lean over and close the distance between him and Daichi’s lips. There were only two other people on the train. “Quit looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re thinking about how to eat me.”

Suga laughed blushing.

“We can stop at the conbini for a three course if you’re hungry.”

Suga punched him gently.

“Maybe.”

“It’ll be three quarters dessert and one quarter the spiciest instant ramen available.”

“It’s like you know me or something,” Suga laughed. He slid his hand into Daichi’s.

In the dark Suga traced the shapes the street lamps cast on the ceiling of Daichi’s room. Outside the wind rattled the window, snow still coming down. With a shiver, Suga slid closer, Daichi’s arms secure around him, breathing deep and even.

“Daichi?” he whispered in the dark.

“Hmm?” Daichi sounded sleepy, he shifted.

“Are you awake?”

“I am now,” he said reaching up to rub his eyes.

“Sorry.”

“Its fine, what’s up?”

“Ah, maybe it’s not important.”

“No, you woke me up, you have to tell me now.”

“Daichi, I love you.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“That’s nice?” Suga squeaked.

“Mm,” he agreed, “Love’s nice. I love you too, Koushi.” Daichi leaned a kiss to Suga’s forehead. Suga held him tighter.

“Daichi, you’re not talking in your sleep are you?”

“I don’t do that,” he said, laughter in his throat, vibrating warm and soft against Suga’s cheek. Suga shut his eyes and exhaled, drinking in Daichi’s heat, the pleasant weight of his arms around him, the steady beat of his heart against Suga’s ear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!  
> Thanks everyone for all the love and support and for reading all the way to the end <3 <3  
> Tell me how we're feeling


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